


The Cursed Princess Club fanfic: The Secret of The Plaid Family

by Dr_Bodymelt21



Category: The Cursed Princess Club
Genre: Angst and Feels, Angst with a Happy Ending, Blaine is a jerk at first, Blood and Gore, Body Horror, Brotherly Angst, Brotherly Issues, Brothers, CPC, Claustrophobia, Drama, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, F/F, F/M, Family Issues, Fluff and Angst, Frederick is finding himself, Gen, Mental Health Issues, Mythology References, Psychological Trauma, Social Anxiety, The Plaid King sucks, Trust Issues, Unresolved Emotional Tension, Violence, Webtoon:The Cursed Princess Club(CPC), Witch Curses, he needs to work out some issues
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-02
Updated: 2021-02-10
Packaged: 2021-03-08 02:42:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 12
Words: 33,344
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26778316
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dr_Bodymelt21/pseuds/Dr_Bodymelt21
Summary: Once upon a time, there was a prince who finally had enough. He was tired of taking the put downs, the insults, and the contempt of his father, The Plaid King. But as Frederick heads down the path of self love and respect, he will discover a closely guarded secret from his mother's side of the family. A secret that will change the lives of the Plaid brothers forever.
Comments: 3
Kudos: 22





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> ( A story for the CPC fandom that I came up with. I know its self indulgent but what fan fiction isn't. Frederick is one of my favorite characters and I think he deserves a lot more respect for trying to change. He already took the first step standing up to his verbally abusive dad, so I decided to write this story with Frederick's anger and frustration peaking before the Pastel Ball. This fic will be rated T for language and violence. Disclaimer: I do not own the The Cursed Princess Club. All credit goes to LambCat on Webtoon. This is all for fun and I just really love this comic.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Since Ao3 has no italics, I'll be using" *" at the beginning and end to differentiate Frederick's thoughts from his actual speech.

CPC: Ch.1

(Frederick's Thoughts: Italicized)

" Useless! Absolutely useless! Once again your complete incompetence surprises me!" screamed the Plaid King as he threw the shredded remains of Frederick's proposal in his face. He flinched away, dread creeping up from his toes.

*Well, here we go again.*

"This is your proposal?! More trees and libraries!? How can my own flesh and blood come up with something so pathetic!?"

The king groaned as he pinched the bridge of his nose. "Where did I go wrong with you? I trained your brothers the same way and they turned out fine. Why can't you be more like them? Lance and Blaine have been turning in manlier proposals since they were toddlers.

Frederick rolled his eyes as he replied, " I'm pretty sure Lance only just learned to do that last year." The King gave a hard stare to his son.

"You know what!? There's still a lot you can learn from your brothers. So today you will be shadowing both of them during their daily duties. I can only hope that even a scrap of their excellence would seep into that fragile body of yours." The king turned on his heels and walked away from Frederick, muttering, "Honestly, sometimes I wonder if I sired a daughter." Frederick felt a familiar numbness echo in his chest as he picked up the remains of his ruined proposal off the floor. "You didn't even really read it....." He said to no one.

*What was I even expecting? Of course he didn't read it through. If there isn't even one mention of fighting or anything Father considers "manly" enough, he treats it like dirt. I constantly try to please him and for what? Why do I need him to be happy? He'll always be disappointed with me, he'll never care about me........*

Frederick felt tears itching his eyes.

*Would it even matter if I was here?*

Frederick stood up and briskly walk down the hall to the library. *Screw the shadowing. I need to relax.* Frederick was just turning the corner when he bumped into someone, nearly dropping his damaged proposal. "Ah, sorry about that, Frederick, I didn't really see you there." said Lance, his second elder brother. The tall man with light-bluish hair helped Frederick get his a few pages of his proposal straightened out. "Its fine, Lance." Frederick replied. Lance smiled. "Dad said that you were going to be tailing me today. So get into your work clothes, our first lesson is a nice spar in the gym!" he said as he slapped Fredrick hard on the back. Frederick frowned as his normally bright green eyes dulled. "Actually Lance, I'm not really feeling up to it right now. I'm just gonna go and-"

he said as he tried to walk pass his older brother. But Lance moved in front of Fredrick's path. " Ok. Then lets take a look at your proposal then and see if we can improve it." he said as he snatched Fredrick's papers. Frederick reached out for them but Lance held him back as he read aloud what he could make out. "Lets see..... "Increase flora production in the kingdom"...... "focusing on growing some of our own plants".....encourage gardening among the men! Whoa! No wonder dad was mad!" Frederick made a grab for the papers. "Give it back, Lance!" he yelled.

Lance simply dodged Fredrick's leap and continued reading. "Improve the education system in the Kingdom with more libraries....... Make them more available to people farther from the main city..... start a Writer's Guild for aspiring authors! Whaaaat!" Frederick grabbed the papers from Lance with a snarl. "Give me that!" he said holding the pages close to his chest. Lance patted Fredrick's shoulder with a smile. " Don't worry. My first few proposals were crappy too. We just have to take out all the girlie stuff."

Frederick stiffened as he looked up at Lance; Heat beginning to rise to his face. "What?"

Lance continued, oblivious of Fredrick's disturbing expression. " You know, all this stuff about getting guys into gardening and writing and stuff. Its all girlie stuff. Guys don't belong in gardens growing flowers or holed up in a room writing about their "feelings". They're supposed to be out there fighting for the kingdom, hunting, doing real manly work. Come on, Frederick, you were just asking dad to yell at you if you brought him this."

Frederick was quiet; His heart pounding in his chest like a war drum. He clenched his fist, crumpling the torn papers. Something stirred inside of him, something that thrashed and howled in its fleshy cage. Its fiery body burning through every inch of his being. He wanted to let it out. Let it all out. He wanted to get in Lance's face and just scream until he couldn't even make a sound.

He needed to get away.

Frederick walked past Lance, continuing his trip to the library. Lance called out to him, keeping behind his brother. "Wait up, bro! This won't take long. We'll take out the lame stuff and put in something like exploring new lands or something. Then if you feel up to it we can spar later. Sound cool?"

Frederick stopped, still looking at the ground.

"Is your eyesight good?"

Lance cocked his head in confusion. "Huh? Yeah, why do you ask?"

Frederick turned his head to him slightly; Just enough for Lance to catch the cold furry filled green eyes of his younger brother.

"Because I didn't think you could see very well with your head so far up your ass." he replied. Then Frederick walked away, leaving Lance frozen in place. The second oldest brother's mouth hung open with shock and confusion. As Lance watched his brother turn a corner and disappear, he struggled to comprehend what his baby brother had just said to him.

And why?


	2. Ch.2

CPC: Ch.2

The towheaded prince slammed the library door behind him with a loud thud. He leaned against the heavy wooden door for a moment before sliding onto the floor, hands covering his face in shock. "Oh my GOOOOOOOOOOOOOD! I can't believe I just did that!" he whispered-yelled to himself. *Lance is definitely mad. Oh, God, what was I thinking? Lance will tell Blaine, then Blaine will tell dad. Then I'll be hauling Laverne until I'm sixty! Crap! I'm so stupid!*

Frederick stood up and walked pass the enormous shelves filled with books. The colossal brackets towered over him; Their long shadows gave the young prince a sense of comfort. A second floor to the library was fronted by an over hanging balcony and trimmed with a small set of wooden stairs. When he was a child, he would often hide among the literary labyrinth to escape his father's cumbersome lectures; A vast paper maze that hid a plethora of colorful characters that he knew better than his own family. His reminiscing was interrupted by a dull ache at his chest. He winced as he rubbed the tender spot in the middle of his sternum. Frederick had been dealing with this ache for a few months now. On most days the aching felt itchy and slightly tingly, but it was the rare aches that Frederick feared the most. They always came at night; It announced its arrival with a smoldering sting that awakened him from his sleep. It would make him sharply whimper like an injured cat. The fiery ache would spread all over his body like a flood; Every nerve aflame with pain and every muscle tight and unyielding like steel. Those nightly pains would leave his body a paralytic knot and his eyes streaming with tears. When he first told his father about the ache, he didn't believe him and even scolded Frederick for trying to get out of his combat training. His brothers thought it was all in his head, so he's just been dealing with it.

Frederick continued to walk until he reached the furthest corner of the library, hidden from view by a large shelf underneath the balcony. No one really knew about this, but there was a secret compartment in the rise of the staircase and it has served as a hideaway for Frederick ever since he was small. He removed one of the loose panels of wood and crawled inside. The space was decorated moderately with a bundle of soft blankets in one corner; a tidy stack of books were set up near a brown sack full of snacks and drinks; and an oil lantern with a few tins of extra oil by corner of the small room. Frederick sat in the little space taking in deep breaths to calm himself down; his breathing whistling through the enclosure like a soft airy lullaby.

*Why did I lash out at Lance like that? He was only trying to help me, but….. Who am I kidding? What he said wasn't helpful! It was just word for word what Dad was telling me only in a different volume! Ugh! I can't stand it! I'm so tired of them treating me like shit because god forbid I do anything remotely "unmanly". (mocking Dad tone) Frederick, why must you engage in such unmanly behavior like reading and caring about the environment. All those things are so girly. Why can't you be more of a thick headed musclephile like Lance or a narcissistic control freak like Blaine. If you don't prove yourself to me you'll never be good enough.*

Angry tears streamed down Frederick's face as that phrase ran through his mind over and over again;

*NOT GOOD ENOUGH.  
NOT GOOD ENOUGH.  
NOT GOOD ENOUGH.

NOT GOOD ENOUGH.  
NOT GOOD ENOUGH….*

He curled up in a little ball as he continued to silently cry until he drifted off to sleep.

"Beautiful! Wonderful! You are an absolute god, Your Highness." gushed the photographer as Blaine posed for his new calendar of the month. "Thank You, Pierre." he replied as he slipped out of his merman costume. As he was changing in to his regular clothes, he heard the large wooden doors open with a loud bang.

"Blaine!" yelled out Lance.

Needless to say, his thundering introduction caused Blaine to nearly slip and fall and Pierre to drop his paints in alarm, splattering oily colors all over the floor. "Wahhhh! Lance! How many times have I told you to knock before entering!" Blaine yelled as he frantically gathered his clothes off the hue stained floor. Blaine went over to his brother; A somber frown on the normally goofy middle sibling's face. "I need to talk to you about Frederick." Lance said in a low voice. Blaine stared at his brother in shock; He's never seen his second brother look so serious. Blaine silently waved Pierre away. The artist made his way out the door as he mumbled under his breath. As the door shut, Blaine led his brother over to one of the couches in the room to sit down. When both brothers were seated, Blaine looked over to Lance. "Go on." He said. As Blaine got dressed, Lance told him everything that had transpired in the hallway. Blaine's eyes went wide as he heard about Frederick's surprisingly cruel retort. When Lance finished his story, his eyes became downcast. " I don't understand. I've never seen him like this before. Frederick is normally so calm after Dad's critiques, but he just looked so angry."

"Do you know where he went?" Blaine calmly asked.

"He's probably in the libra-Hey!" Lance started but was stopped when Blaine suddenly grabbed his arm and started to walk out of the room with him in tow. "Well this un-princely behavior won't do at all. We have to find Frederick and confront him about this."

"But bro, maybe we should give him some space."

"Nonsense, Lance. We have to teach our little brother to keep his emotions in check and to apply his frustrations to bettering himself. You were only trying to help him, it's not your fault that his performance is inadequate."

"But Blaine…. You didn't see his face. His eyes…. It was like staring into a fire pit. He honestly scared me….."

"Lance. This is Frederick we're talking about. He's ranked the lowest in our combat class. What could he possibly do to us?"

Lance and Frederick spent the whole day trying to find their younger brother but found no trace of him. They didn't even see Frederick at dinner that night, which irked their father in to a passive aggressive rant about his "irresponsible" son . They didn't tell him that Frederick had skipped out on shadowing. Before going to bed, Blaine told Lance that the search would continue tomorrow. If they didn't find him in the morning then they would surely find him at the Plaid Ball happening that night. Lance, normally a brave young man, couldn't help but feel a twinge of dread in his stomach at the thought of confronting those livid green eyes.

Frederick woke up to a dull ache in his neck and spine. He groaned in pain as he sat up, stretched, and opened his eyes. His breath quickened as he remembered what transpired the other day. "Oh, crap! Did I sleep here the entire night!" he thought as he removed the panel and crawled out. When

he looked over to the grandfather clock in the middle of the room, his face paled as he saw the time. "OH, SHIT! ITS 12:53! I MISSED ALL OF MY LESSONS!" He wrung his hands through his hair as he started pacing around frantically all while making a weird high pitched noise. Frederick quietly shuffled out of the library, hoping that no one would see him. "Ok. Not only is dad furious, now he probably wants to kill me. Oh, man! If anyone finds me, I'm so screwed! Maybe I can sneak out of the palace and into the outer garden." The younger brother silently made his why down the hall, flinching at every creak and ducking into rooms at every voice. Surprisingly, there was hardly anyone in the hallways which he thought was odd, but he continued on his way to the garden. Then Frederick came to the danger zone of the castle: the master bedroom.

The large double door with an ornate dark wooden lion head on the mantle glared at the boy with its piercing ruby eyes. Across from the door was the entrance to the other hallway and to door that led to the garden. All I have to do is sneak past the door and then I'm home free. Frederick quickly sprogged his way past the door, taking extra care in muffling the squeak of his shoes. Almost there.

Then came a loud crash.

He froze mid step and turned to the door. Behind it came muffled cursing and shuffling."Is that Mom? What is she doing in there? " No. I need to get out of here." He was about to continue his journey to the garden when another thud came from the room followed by more cursing. Frederick looked at the door again with a concerned frown. *Is she hurt?* The blonde prince took a deep breath before turning on his heels and heading over to the bedroom. His hand hovered over the door knob as his mind raced with second and third thoughts. *Maybe I shouldn't do this. Mom hasn't talked to us in months… check that, I don't think shes ever really talked to us. But still….* "Mom? Are you ok in there? Do you need help?" He asked as he opened the door to see a familiar sight.

"Oh."


	3. Ch.3

Frederick's thoughts

Be aware for: Language and alcohol use.

When the people of the kingdom think of the Plaid Queen, the image that pops in to their minds is the dictionary definition of regal, poise, and grace.

These are not the words that Frederick would use to describe his mother.

The young prince deadpanned as he watched his mother try and fail to pick up her broken wine glass pieces with her body swaying from side to side; The sharp smell of alcohol rolled off her body in waves.

Frederick sighed which caused his mother to turn her head to the doorway. "Oh shit...hic*...not now kid. Mommy's having me time…." The queen slurred as she waved her hands, thinking Frederick would take the hint. The latter entered the room anyway and picked his mother from the floor and sat her on the bed. "I'll clean up. You just lie down." Frederick said in a disheartened tone. *She's at it again.* For as long as Frederick could remember, his mother only had a few emotions: indifferent, annoyed, and stupidly happy. The last one only happened when she had a few glasses of wine in her. His mother had started drinking back when they were small and now even more ever since their father announced the engagement; The king and queen also started sleeping in separate rooms since then too. Not that it affected the boys all that much. Frederick felt like they all understood the relationship their mother had with them. She neither hugged, kissed, nor ever showed any affection to neither Frederick, his brothers or even the king himself;To the queen they were strangers that she had to tolerate. Most of the boy's care was done by the palace nannies and they were fine with that

arrangement. When Frederick was little, he thought that this estrangement from his mother was normal but as he grew up he realized that it was anything but. As Frederick stewed in his thoughts and picked up the shards of glass, he felt a thin finger brush his hair. He looked up into the eyes of his mom; her red and unfocused orbs stared at him like he was the worlds hardest puzzle. " Hey... aren't you…..supposed tobe...hic*... In class?" she asked, poking his nose with her finger. Frederick froze. A look of terror crossed his face. The queen then gave a big lopsided smile as she laughed aloud. " I'm fucking with ya, boy. You think… I give a damn about..hic*...gettin ya in trouble with that ol…. Meat headed dad of yours! Don't worry…" The queen put a finger to her lips and winked lopsidedly. " It'll be our little secret." The queen laughed again as she threw her upper body to the side of the bed. Frederick heard her rummaging for something under it. Then she pulled out another bottle of wine. She rips off the cork and raises the bottle in the air. "A drink for mother-son bonding….." she says before tipping the bottle and guzzling down the wine like water. Frederick gently clasps his mother's hand, trying to take the bottle from her. " Mother. I think you've had enough for today." he says in a soft voice. Her demeanor changed from chill to livid within the drop of a dime as his mom snarled and yanked the bottle back; A splash of wine spilled onto the floor. "Don't patro…. Patre…...patri… Ah,fuck it. Don't act all high and mighty with me, boy. I'm your mother and I've had enough when I say so. I'll stop when I forget whom I married" she snapped.

He winced.

Frederick had a feeling that his mother hated being with his father. Even though the king would do anything to make her happy, Frederick knew that no matter what, his mother would never be happy with them. The queen continued to drink as she scoffed and ranted about the king and her arranged marriage to him. Frederick opted to stay quiet and tune her out; a method that sometimes worked when his father was yelling at him.

But his heart still grew heavy, regardless.

"...look at me, trapped in this wretched shit-scum kingdom married to that old…hic*Ummmm. Goat….face…..ugh, forget it! And to top it all off I have to stick around for you lot…. Wait, which one were..hic* you again?"

" Frederick."

"Ah, right… The sickly one. Let me tell you Franklin...hic*...If I didn't let you three roll down the…tubes, I'd be gonzo. Vanished! Awol! hic* I'd go home, away from all of this…. (Sigh)..Why did I agree to have children?...If anyone were to find out, we'd…..all be dead."

His ears perked up.

"What?"

The drunk queen gazed over at Frederick, a sly smile on her lips.

" Hehehehe..hic* Thats right... Mommy has a little secret…(burp*) And its the only thing keeping us alive."

She leaned in close to him; His nose wrinkled at the boozy smell.

"Wanna hear?"

Frederick leaned away from his mother, feeling a shiver go down his back. *Mom is being really weird.*

"Your drunk, Mom. Stop…."

Suddenly his mom grabbed his shoulder, pulled him down to the mattress, and glared at him. "Listen, boy hic*... Your going to sit here and listen or else…...I scream for the guards."

Frederick felt his stomach drop. So he nodded wordlessly.

"Wise choice…. I've waited...hic* years to get this off my chest." She took a long drink from the bottle. " When I was still young, I lived in a land far across the sea called the Valley Kingdom. Beautiful place, full of tall trees and flowers. All in gorgeous colors…. My father, the king, had always been disgusted by the practices of human enslavement. So he gathered a group of his strongest fighters and made his mark by intercepting slave ships and setting the captives free. Some would go back to their lands, others stayed and made their lives in my father's kingdom. My mother was one of the latter. She had skin as dark as the richest chocolate and hair that grew towards the sun; I use to believe that her hair drank the sunlight so it could glow. She ran a medicine shop in the village and treated anyone that came to her. You could even have no money and she would still treat you; That's the kind of person she was. My father and her met when he summoned her to treat his ailing mother. My mother tried her best but the elderly woman passed away a few weeks later. While the king grieved, my mother comforted him; That's when they fell in love. A love that I've so far failed to find. It wasn't until their wedding day did my father discover what my mother was."

"What...does that-"

"By this kingdom's crooked rules she would be considered a monster."

Frederick went quiet, clenching his hands into fist; The ache was back with a vengeance and it was rushing up from the base of his spine.

" My mother is a Boo-Hag."

"Huh?"

" A female creature that drains the life force or blood of the living, Or so the legends say. My mother once showed me that she only drinks enough blood to satisfy her but not kill the person. Despite her fearsome nature, my father accepted her as his queen. Their first decree as king and queen was to make the kingdom a sanctuary for all cryptids and human-like creatures and they came by the bunches to escape the persecution of the humans."

The queen reclined on her back as she looked listlessly to the ceiling.

"And then I came along. Apparently my mother's hag genetics skipped over me. So when I was 19 years old, visitors came to the island and your father was among them. He had just become king, so the poor fool was immediately taken aback by the kingdom's splendor. And by me. At first, I entertained the young king; Father told me to be polite to the guests, so I happily obliged. He made advances all through out his stay and but I just ignored them. Then one night, he came running back to his crew, covered in blood. He told his crew that he came across a vicious monster in the village that had attacked him. When we went to check out his claims, we found that he had stabbed one of the girls in the village, a werewolf, to death. My father, mother and the other cryptids of the town were furious. They threw the crew out of the castle and threatened to unleash all hell upon them if they didn't leave the Valley. But that bastard wasn't going to give up that easily. He sent a negotiator to make a deal with us. He said that if we didn't give up the princess then they would give the okay to the thousands of other soldiers, that had been hiding on the shores since they arrived, to attack. HaHahaahhaha to that old fool, I was the helpless damsel being held captive in a land of monsters. Delusional idiot…. My father told me to go with them and do whatever was necessary. It was my duty as princess to do what was best for the kingdom…best for the kingdom, tch… He sent me to that shit stain with a little present; A gaseous potion that would erase the memories of anyone who breathes it in. I held my breath as I opened that bottle; To both protect myself from the potion and to protect my nose from that barbaric ape's stench when he embraced me…I wish I did breathe in that potion…... As I sailed away from my home, my naivety led me to hope that I would only have to tolerate this for a little while; My father would come and rescue me; All would be well. A year past; Then 5; Another five; then 10; Another 10! No one came for me! They left me here…. They had planned to abandoned me here; To save their own skins! They didn't care if I was frightened by this murdering sociopath! They didn't care about what I wanted or had to say! Now, here I am with three of that ass's crotch goblins; Waiting either for him to die or my secret to be revealed!"

The queen stopped her ranting to take in big gulps of air; Her flushed body shaking with decades of repressed rage, her head down. Frederick, who had already gotten off of the bed, was staring at his mom in horrified fixation. His sore skin prickling; Even the natural act of goosebumps gave him pain. His mother looked up at her frightened child's face and smiled cruelly. "Awwww. Is the little prince disturbed? Well, you should be. Because like I said, my mother's genes skipped me, so-" She stood up and staggered over to Frederick; Her son backing up to the doorway, his aching body shaking with a cocktail mix of pain and fear.

" That means that either one or all of you are Boo-boys."

Suddenly the queen threw herself back on the bed and laughed loudly; A wicked edge lining her humor.

"Boo boy!? HAHAHAHAHAHA! What a stupid name! But if one of you is one, hurry up and turn already! It'll be the perfect ending for the rotten grim fairy tale that is my life; The Plaid Queen and Her Burning Boo-Boys!" Frederick ran out of the room as his mother's laughed behind him; Her echoing cackle drilled through his ears and into his soul.


	4. Ch.4

The doors to the library burst open as a blur of green and blond rushed through the shelves. Frederick, who was grabbing books with sweaty hands while breathing rapidly from both fear and exertion, frantically searched the bottom shelves. "Where is it? I know its here somewhere." he mumbled as his quivering fingers grazed spine after spine to no avail. Then he jumped on to one of the rolling ladder and pushed off, searching through the numerous top rows of colorfully leather bound books. Finally, at the end of the fourth shelf on the third row, he found the book he was looking for. "Yes!" he said as he yanks out a massive book on mythical creatures from all around the world. He just started climbing down when-

"There you are, Frederick!"

Said boy's heart almost jumped out of his chest as he turned around to see Blaine making his way toward him. "I've been looking everywhere for you! Why weren't you at your lessons? Why-" Blaine started but Frederick ignored him as his brain raced to come up with a way out of this situation. Then he remembered that he's on a ladder with a rolling track and all the ladders after his were lined up perfectly. Frederick reared his foot and launched a powerful kick to the sturdy wooden shelf. His ladder flew down the rails to the next shelf just as his elder sibling was about to grab it. Blaine watched in awe as his brother leapt from his ladder onto the next one that was resting perfectly next to the end of the rail; His momentum quickly rocketing him to the next ladder.

"What the-HEY! FREDERICK, WAIT! Stop that this instant! GET DOWN FROM THERE!" Blaine shouted as Frederick jumped from ladder to ladder gaining more and more speed. When he began rolling towards the doorway, Blaine sprinted towards it, aiming to cut him off. When Frederick's ladder reached the end of the shelf, he jumped off and flew right through the door way and landed in the hallway feet first; His momentum carrying his shoulder into the wall. He winced as a white hot flash of pain shot up his already sore skin, causing spots to flash through his vision and his eyes to water. This gave Blaine enough time to catch up to his younger sibling. "What in the world was that all about?! If you're trying to run from your problems then your sorely mistaken. I need to talk to you about what happened between you and Lance."

Frederick, his skin still flaring with pain, recovered as best he could and walked briskly down the hallway; The mythology book held close to his chest.

"Not now, Blaine. I need to go."

Blaine darted behind him, matching his speed.

"Yes, now. Your behavior to Lance was unacceptable; He was only trying to give you advice. You shouldn't take your lack of trying out on others. Just because your proposal stunk doesn't mean you should act in such a nasty manner."

Frederick gritted his teeth as he quickened his pace.

Blaine kept going.

"I mean seriously. Plant more trees. More libraries? Gardening? A writer's guild? Why did you come up with such frivolous things. Those activities are useless to the kingdom; Its no wonder father is so disappointed in you. Your passionate in the wrong things. Do you really think that what the world needs is some overly passionate literary snobs and a few gardeners? You need to stop focusing on such worthless endeavors and do something that actually means something"

Frederick began to walk faster.

"Look, when the ball is over, we'll look over your proposal; Then we'll just tinker with it to suit father's needs and taste. You need a plan that's more robust, more efficient, something that is actually worthy of father's time. Hey, he might even praise you again like he did back at the Pastel castle. Only this time, try to stay in his good graces this time. Seriously, how do you keep pissing off dad on a daily basis?"

Frederick saw red as he snapped his head towards Blaine.

"Shut up and leave me alone!" he barked.

Blaine not missing a beat grabbed Frederick by the arm; A throbbing sensation radiated from his touch.

"You don't ta-"

"DON'T FUCKING TOUCH ME!" Frederick roared as he yanked his arm back and pushed Blaine into the wall, the latter hitting it with a loud thud.

The two boys stared at each other for a few seconds; Frederick, wide eyed, with his hands covering his mouth in shock and Blaine also wide eyed but staring up at him in dazed disbelief. Frederick mumbled sorry several times as he backed away slowly;Then he sprinted down the hallway. He heard Blaine call out for him to stop, but he kept going.

\------------------------------------------------------------------

Frederick didn't stop running until he was sheltered by the thick wild bloom of green foliage in the castle gardens. The gardens was a project started by his mother when they were born, but, to the surprise of no one, she let it go. Without anyone willing to prune or care for it, the gardens grew into an un-tamable dense jungle; Its leafy fingers stretched its leafy fingers into the embrace of the enchanted forest. Since then, their father forbade the boys from ever setting foot into the garden, for fear of the creatures that hid in the shadowy green.

Of course, that didn't stop the three curious kids.

Before their father sent them off to boarding school, a young Blaine and Lance decided to explore the gardens. At the time Frederick, who was born with a weak constitution, watched his elder siblings from the doorway to the gardens. They disappear into the bushes only to run out scared after two minutes. Their frightened screams were followed by an otherworldly howl that echoed out from the forest. A strange high pitched vibrating warbling that graceful moved up and down a vast ocean of pitches.

To the youngest brother, it sounded like a song.

When Frederick was well enough to move, he crept into the thicket in hopes of finding the owner of the melodious howl. While he did not find its origin, he did stumble across something better. Close to the border between the garden and the forest, where the flower and ivy grows thin, lays a large wall of sharp brown thorns; Rotten remnants of a rose garden never cared for. At the far left of the thorny wall is a large hole that tunnels inside the wall. At the end of the passageway lies an opening domed by a spiny wall of dead flora. Since then, any time the library was occupied, Frederick would use the gardens as a back up hiding place.

Frederick got down on his hands and knees and crawled into the opening as soon as he saw the wall, still holding the book to his chest. He tried to make himself as small as possible to avoid the sharp needle like thorns from scratching his tender skin. He gasped every time he felt them pull at his clothes. When he made it to the sunlit opening, he took in deep breaths. His mind trying to process what had just happened. *Oh, God. It happened again! Am I losing my mind? How the hell did I even do that? Blaine is way stronger than me. I suck at combat. So where did that come from? I'm not a violent person. What the fuck is wrong with me?*

When Frederick thought it over, he kept going back to Blaine's words and how they just made his body feel hot and his vision crimson. Blaine always tried to sound all perfect and greater than thou when he was lecturing Frederick. Normally, Frederick just rolled his eyes and ignored him, but something was different. Every word he said stoked a fiery feeling in his chest that made him want to punch in that perfect face.

But why?

Frederick looked down at the book in his hand and suddenly remembered his mission. He popped open the book and began to flip through until he found the index. He searched through the Bs and found it: Chapter 7, page 105. He flipped to the page and was highly disappointed to find only a small section on the creature.

"Ok, not much but at least its something. Mhmmm…...classified as vampires… evil creature that steals living people's life source…spreads disease….. Oh!"

One sentence made all of his anxiety disappeared.

…..creatures are normally female…..

The blonde prince breathed out a sigh of relief as he closed the book. *Oh, what a relief. Hahaha…. I freaked out over nothing. Serves me right for listening to the ravings of my drunk mother.* He frowned as his mind flashed through little snippets of her harsh words. Deep down he knew that his mother never really cared for them, but it was another thing to actually hear her say it. But he couldn't really blame her though, imagine being forced to have children with a man you don't even love and never being able to see your home and love ones again. Now, her complete animus for them finally made sense; every time she saw their faces, she was reminded of what she lost and who was responsible for it.

And she was tired of hiding her feelings about that.

Right then, Frederick realized why he was so temperamental with his brothers. His brothers never wanted to be involved with him, even when they were kids, his brothers didn't spend time with him.

Not even once.

So why were they all of a sudden so determined to "help" him. They probably were told by dad to help there "poor unmanly scrap of a brother". They didn't really give a damn about him. At least mother was honest about how she saw him, even though it was harsh. His brothers were just putting up a "good and wise older sibling" front just to get on dad's good side. Like always, they were just acting like they cared, so they could put on a show for dad.

None of it was for his benefit.

Suddenly, Frederick cried out as waves of fire burned throughout his entire body. Every nerve in his body was covered in pinpricks of agony as he curled into a little ball on the ground. *This…. This is bad. It's never hurt this much before.* He screamed again as acid laced agony flowed into every vein, pore, and organ of his body. He took in a breath and was treated to a lung shriveling burn that made him cough violently; He choked and gagged on his own spit. Tears flowed down his eyes as he struggled to move toward the exit, but stopped because every movement he made was like torture of the most unspeakable sort. "Oh, GodOhgodohgodohgoOh,GodOhgodohgodohgo IT HURTS SO MUCH! MAKE IT STOP! MAKE IT STOP! SOMEBODY HELP ME!" he cried.

But no one came.

As his conscious began to edge into darkness, Frederick wondered how his family would react when they would find his body.

When Frederick opened his eyes, he wondered if he was in heaven or hell. Then when his eyes started to focus, he saw the twinkling light of stars through the thick branches of his hiding place, now hued a deep black. He sat up from the ground and brushed the dirt from his hair. *Its…..night? How long have I been here?* Frederick crawled out of his hiding place and exited the garden to hear the sounds of music and laughing coming from the radiant castle. "Oh, crap! I forgot about tonight's' ball! Now dad is really going to kill me!" Frederick rushed into the castle and to his relief, the normally busy hallways were empty. *Oh, thank God. Everyone's at the party. Now, I just have to go to my room and get changed.* Frederick made his way through the plethora of hallways, only hiding when the odd party goer was passing by trying to find the bathroom. When he reached his bedroom, he let out a breath that he didn't know he had been holding as he shut the door behind him. "Whew, ok. Now I just have to go into the party, pretend to be the wallpaper and pray that Blaine won't kick my ass." So Fredrick undressed himself and hopped into his bedroom's private tub. As he bathed in the warm water he noticed something very unusual.

His skin didn't ache anymore.

Usually, or what became his usual, he would feel a slight itching or at the very most stinging when he would bathe himself in cold water or hot water. Now, there was no pain whatsoever. But his skin still felt…...weird. He couldn't quite put his finger on it, but something was different. *Ech, no time to think abut that now.* He finished up, put on a vest, a white shirt and some slacks, and made his way over to the main ball room. As he got closer, the cacophony of laughter and voices echoed loudly in the hallway. He dug his fingers into his palms as his heartbeat increased its rate, suddenly feeling anxious. The large double door to the party towered over him as they came into view; Its sheer enormity and bulk brought about images of the gates of Hades in all its ominous presence. He started to slow down as his heart started to pump out ice into his bloodstream and that eventually made him stop a few feet in front of the door. The wooden door twitched and creaked as the bodies of guests thudded into it; Their screeching and howling crashed against the door like sealed demons begging for an escape. They seemed to call out to him so they could feast on him until he was nothing more then a husk. Come be with us so we can press your lungs until they are as thin as paper. Let us see you drown in our chaos. Let us laugh as you call out to your loved ones and cry as they turn their backs on your pain. Frederick's breath became erratic as the rest of the world blurred around him.

But the door stayed clear.

Almost beckoning him to join in the bedlam; To let it consume him and devour him whole.

Frederick turned on his heel and quickly walked away from the door, hyperventilating the whole way until he reached the library. He shut the door behind him as he collapsed to his knees taking in shaky uneven breaths. A dull thud filled his ears as he crawled over to one of the book shelves and he focused on trying to get his breathing back under control.

In.

Then out.

In.

Then out.

In.

Out.

In.

Out.

In.

Out.

He continued this exercise until the thudding of his heart slowed from a war drum to an easy tap. Though his fingers still shook and his stomach was twisted up in knots, he felt a little better. To ease his nerves more, Frederick looked to the shelf behind him for a book; His fingers went through the spines until he came across a book with a yellow cover.

The Littlest Prince.

The copy that Gwen gave him.

He pulled it out and looked it over as he felt a small smile come up. *How did she know that this used to be my most favorite story as a kid. Maybe it won't hurt to read it over again, for old time sake.* So Frederick opened up to the beginning and started to read. But as he read, instead of feeling the light and cheery tickling of nostalgia from his boyhood, he felt a familiar twinge of sadness.

He realized that ideals from childhood don't exactly hold up very well when you grew up. As he read about the protagonist's journey to greatness with the angel of mercy by his side, it became clear to him that the whole story was a sickly saccharine lie. The man would have died in that hole from the very beginning. Left for dead by the apathetic villagers. It filled his heart with anger as he read about those same villagers showering the man with adoration once they saw that he could be of use.

*Those hypocrites.*

By the end, he realized that despite everything, the man only had one person that cared for his life and that was the angel. All the villagers" love and thankfulness was all disgustingly fake and superficial. Just like his father's and his brothers'.

At least his mother respected him enough to show her true feelings.

He really was alone; Even if he tried to impress everyone it wouldn't matter, it would all be fake anyway.

"Frederick?"

A soft voice brought him out of his musings as he looked up to the doorway that was now cracked open.

"Gwen?"

(So this takes place on the day of Lance's birthday party if anyone is confused. I really feel proud of this chapter when it comes to delving into Frederick's problems with self-love and loneliness. I took a few creative liberties with Frederick at the party. My personal headcanon for him is that he has social anxiety and claustrophobia. This made sense since Frederick spent most of his childhood sheltered in the castle due to health problems and when he eventually went to school, he was severely bullied and this ended up giving him additional problems in socializing and trusting people. The claustrophobia came about since the bullies locked him in a chest and most likely just left his room a wreck with Frederick screaming to be let out. I don't mean to sound twisted but I do hope that I am right about Frederick having claustrophobia; Lambcat make it cannon!)


	5. Ch.5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (Next chapter is here! This first part is loosely based off of Frederick's and Gwen's conversation in the library at episode 49. I had to tweak this part just a smidgen, so I wouldn't be relying on the original dialogue too much since Frederick's motivations and emotional state are vastly different from the original episode. So I just included the major important parts of the conversation that reveal more about Frederick's mental state. I had to do a lot of research with this chapter so it could feel authentic, which mainly involved reading back to earlier chapters and skimming the reddit pool. I just really wanted both parties injustices to feel genuine, which I hope I did. Enjoy!)

"Gwen? What are you doing here? I thought you couldn't come." Frederick asked.

The youngest Pastel Princess smiled as she replied. "Dad was able to come back from his expedition early. So we were able to come in time for the party." Frederick nodded in understanding as he took in Gwen's formal attire. Her thin brown hair was tied up in a loose yet elegant bun; Her unbound curls hung in front of her oval face, framing it perfectly. The look was completed by a beautiful flowing green plaid ball gown that matched the tone of her whitish-green skin. Her long white gloves gave her the look of the most regal of queens; For a brief moment, she reminded him of an old picture book he once read before that depicted the image of a Faery queen. "How did you know I was here?" he asked. "Lance said that you might be in the library. And I thought I drop by and say hello."

"Oh then you can come in…..If you want to."

Gwen looked a little surprise as she said. "Ok…."

The two teens sat in silence for a minute that stretched into two. *Ughh, this is so awkward. Just talk to her, dummy. If one more minute of quiet goes by I'm going to choke myself.* "Your...dressed a little differently today."

Gwen looked away flustered as she replied, "Uh, It was suggested that we dress in plaid for the occasion. I know it looks a little weird.."

"No…. it looks nice."

Gwen blushed. "Oh, thank you…. Anyway thanks for lending me this book. I was really captivated by the story with the angel of mercy and the serpent. Its been a while since I read a fairy tale that was so engaging."

" I'm glad you liked it. It used to be my most favorite book when I was a kid. I...lost it during that time, so it was really surprising to see it again."

" I had no idea! What was it like to read it again." Frederick frowned as he replied "Honestly….. I don't really enjoy it much now as I did back then."

"Really? Why not?"

"Its just….. When….. I just feel irritated when I read about how the villagers start adoring the man when before they didn't even know he existed. Their love for the man is fake, they don't really love him, they just love that they found someone they could use." Gwen felt herself jump as his sharp tone cut the air around them; She's never heard him speak like this. "Yeah. I guess I didn't see that the first time I read it….. Anyway, why are you in here when everyone's out there."

"I'm not really a fan of big parties like this. They make me uncomfortable."

"Oh, then why don't you just stick with your family? They would probably love to hang out with you- "

"Yeah right...They're always surrounded by tons of adoring people, and I'm completely ignored the entire time. Those parties always make me feel the worst about myself."

When Frederick saw Gwen's shocked expression, he mentally slapped himself. *Why did I just blurt all of that out right now!?* When Gwen spoke, her voice came out gentle. "Um,... I've met so many amazing princesses at my extracurricular study. And they've taught me a lot…. Including what to do when I'm not feeling very good abut myself. They told me that we all need to practice being kind to ourselves every day and to listen to the kindness of the people who care about you."

He felt numb as he remembered his mother's cold stare and sharp words.

"Yeah. What if no one cares about me?"

"Well, that's not true. I care about you." Gwen replied with the most sincerest of smiles.

He felt something strike his chest, something that filled it with warmth; It traveled into his face turning his cheeks a rosy shade of pink. Something else rose along with it as he felt his eyes itch.

"Thank you so much Gwen. That…. I really needed to hear that." he croaked and then turned away when he realized he had tears in his eyes. "Oh, your welcome. Are you ok, Frederick? You look like your about to cry." asked Gwen as she gently laid a hand on his shoulder. Frederick wiped away his tears as best he could." I'm fine. Its…been a tough day."

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"No, thanks. I'll just get too worked up."

"Oh...Ok."

They sat in silence for a moment before Gwen said, "Hey, maybe if you went to the party with a friend then you won't feel so lonely." Frederick smiled as he stood up and extended a hand to Gwen. " That's the best idea I heard all day." Gwen smiled widely as she accepted his hand and the two left the library.

At the door to the ball, the two teenagers stood there. Frederick took a few deep breaths, his palms soaked in nerve sweats. "You ready?" asked Gwen grasping his hand despite the dampness. Frederick took another deep breath before replying,

"...Yes."

He pushed open the heavy door and entered. A massive room filled with people greeted them. The walls were adorn with bright lights and…that was pretty much it. Lance was never really big on extravagant decorations, so the majority of the decorations was done courtesy of the event planners. Though the hand carved, gold leafed columns extending to ceiling did give the room a little flair. It was loaded with people, who were all dancing, drinking, having a good time, and bumping and mashing into each other like tadpoles in a pond.

But at the moment Frederick didn't care. All the anxiety, dread, and anger only came up in small barely noticeable waves. Gwen was right, going to a party with a friend does make it better. In fact he felt pretty good about being here; like something was telling him everything was going to be fine. Frederick smiled as he motioned to Gwen. "I'm going to have some punch, do you want anything?" he asked. "Sure. I'll tag along." she said as she followed him to the refreshments table. Frederick started pouring two cups of punch. Things were really goi-

"FREDERICK!"

*Oh, hell.*

He turned around in time to see a very angry looking Blaine marching toward him along with Lance. Frederick turned towards Gwen, who looked confused and slightly concerned. "I'll catch up with you later. You probably don't want to see this." he said with a small smile that didn't reached his weary eyes. She nodded as she walked off to give the brothers some privacy. Frederick turned to face his brothers.

Blaine looked absolutely livid.

His face was tomato red and his lips were pursed into a thin white line as he stomped over to him with his hands clenched into tight fists. Lance was coming up behind him but he didn't look angry. In fact, he had a firm hand on Blaine's shoulder almost as if to hold his elder brother back; His eyes were downcast. When Blaine reached him, Frederick braced himself as Blaine took in a rushed breath. "Alright, You're not going to run anymore. We are going to talk about this like grown ups. First, you insult Lance, then skip out on a whole day of your lessons, and then you curse me out and shoved me into a wall. You wanted our attention? Well, you got it, Frederick. What's got you all sad and sulky this time? Seriously, I just don't get it; You have everything you could ever want. Money. Fame. Power. You're going to be engaged in a few years for god sake! Yet, you act like a spoiled brat and want to disobey and defy anything we tell you to do. You think we like trying to keep you out of trouble with dad?! We can't just spend the rest of our lives babying you and-." Blaine stopped when he felt Lance squeeze his shoulder. "Blaine, take it easy." he said in a calm voice. Blaine stared at him appalled. " But he needs to-" Lance held up a hand to quiet him down before facing Frederick, "I...I...I just want to know whats wrong with you. I've never seen you act like this, You've never been cruel before. It isn't like you to-"

"And how would you know that?"

Both Lance and Blaine flinched at Frederick's eerily calm voice.

"Wha-?"

Frederick continued on his chilly tone.

"Ever since we were children, the only time we've had any interaction with each other was through meals or anytime we had events and let's be real, those don't count. Through out it all, you've never even spared me a glance. You were always too busy with your adoring public. So how do you know how I "normally" am?"

Hurt flashed in Lance's eyes as he broke his gaze with Frederick.

Blaine, however, stepped up to him.

"This is ridiculous, Frederick. Of course, we know what kind of person you are! We're your brothers!"

"And that means what to you? Because obviously to you that means I'm a "spoiled brat." as you said, that needs to be constantly criticized and belittled."

"And am I wrong? Correct me if I'm wrong, but I do recall a certain someone insulting his fiance behind her back. Oh, that was real mature, Frederick. (mocking voice) "Oh, I don't want to marry Gwen! She's sooooo ugly. I don't care if the fate of the kingdom rests on this wedding, I'm too selfish and shallow to even want to get to know her. (normal voice) That's the kind of brother I know you are. "

Frederick stayed silent as his heart clenched up in shame as his elder brother kept talking; A voice from deep inside muffled Blaine's voice. *He's right, you know. Stupid selfish brat. That girl you want to get to know, so badly. You called her ugly and she heard you. She's probably just hanging out with you out of pity probably because she can see that your rotten piece of shit inside that pus filled sack you call skin. She hates your guts, now. If it was her choice she wouldn't even consider hanging out with human garbage like you.*

His gazed over to Gwen. She was standing over by one of the columns, talking to someone.

A boy.

His eyes widened as Gwen smiled at the dark haired gentleman, who obviously couldn't take his eyes off of her. His stomach burned in disgust as his inner voice spoke again. *See that? Look how happy she is. You don't deserve the smile she's giving that guy. You deserve this. You deserve to be alone, you loser. You stupid piece of dumb assery…* With every word, Frederick felt like little pieces of himself were breaking off and drifting away. When the muffled speech from Blaine stopped, he responded in a voice devoid of…. anything.

"...Your right."

Blaine looked at Frederick in surprise. His voice sounded different this time. Not cold just... void.

"It actually makes me feel relived knowing this. Knowing that our life was given to us only out of convenience, survival, and the need for a lineage to continue. We're little toys for father to play with, to mold in his image, to continue a legacy that he fears will die with him when the time comes. You guys are his most prized toys, you show the most promise in continuing his royal legacy. So you deserve his love and approval. Me? I'm just the broken toy, the defective one of the pack. The one that's tossed to the side."

Blaine replied, deeply unsettled. "Frederick….. You're not making any sense…. Why-

"But that's ok. I'm fine with this. This how things are. Father probably wanted to try to fix me so he can have all three of us functioning perfectly together like a clock. So he probably told you guys, to focus more of your attention on me. So you could fix me and our family could be perfect again. How things used to be before the broken toy came into your lives and then as a plus, father will give you more praise for fixing the broken one."

He looked into the eyes of both his brothers. Both pairs of orbs were wide and alight with stunned concern.

He gave a small smile to both of them; His dead emerald gaze paired with the lifeless smile set the two older boys' skin a flamed with goosebumps.

"Don't worry. I won't cause anymore trouble for you. I'll be a good and proper prince. You can tell Dad you fixed me after a nice man to man talk."

He turned around and started to walk away; That's when all hell broke loose.

Frederick didn't get more then five steps before he felt someone grab him from behind in and pin his arms to his side in a giant bear hug. " Huh...what-" he sputtered as Blaine appeared in front of him, looking frazzled and panicked. "Lance! What the hell are you doing? You're making a scene."

Lance's voice boomed in his ear as he replied, "I didn't know what else to do! This is scaring me, Blaine! What do we do?!"

"I don't know! I don't kn-"

"HEY! LET ME GO! YOU'RE HURTING ME! LET GO!" Frederick cried as a new sensation of discomfort became acquainted with his flesh. His skin felt…..wrong. It was moving and twisting about loosely in his body like grotesque mass of worms in wet soil. He felt parts of it go numb as he struggled to get out of Lance's hold; It started in his hands and then his feet. Strangely, enough he could still moves his hands and feet, but it felt like they were covered in something loose, damp, and warm. It seemed to stretch like rubber when he flexed his fingers and toes.

Blaine nervously looked out to the sea of party goers, who by this time, were all staring at this strange exchange.

The middle prince seemed to be bear hugging the life out of the green clad prince, while the latter was struggling, yelling and even trying to bite and scratch his way out; Which left Blaine pushing the two across the ballroom to the nearest side room. He looked out to the guests and gave them his best "every thing is fine" smile. Which turned into a panicked look when he turned to hiss at Lance, "Take him to his room and lock him in their until we call the palace doctor! And for gods sake make him stop screaming!"

"I can't! And what do mean call the doctor? What's he going to do!?" Lance asked.

"He'll give him something to calm him down, we might even have to send him to St. Lam's if this gets worse."

Lance turned pale and Frederick went quiet for a moment, not believing what he was hearing. "The crazy house!? Oh, no. We can't-" Frederick opened his mouth to scream again, but it was muffled by Blaine's hand clamping over his mouth.

"Frederick is sick, Lance; Something is wrong with him! You heard what he was saying, he's not well!" As Blaine and Lance argued in whispers, Frederick thrashed around more violently and bit Blaine's hand in the process. He had to get out of here; He had to get away. His skin continued to grow numb as he tried to escape Lance's grasp. Suddenly, he feels something come loose; A splitting sensation spreads through the middle of his chest. He screams out in agony, but keeps moving when he feels Lance's grip slip. He slides out of his brother's loose arms and lands to the floor, and then scrambles away a good distance in a half crawl from the duo. He stands up and turns to give them a piece of his mind.

To see their mouths twisted into O's and their eyes bulging and teeming with fear.

The entire ballroom filled with gasps and screams of horror.

Guests backed away from the three brothers in fright. Blaine backed away with them, the color drained from his face as he tried to suppress a gag. Lance stood motionless, his features stilled into an aghast expression.

*Wha-What's going on? Why is everyone freaking out?*

He looked around at the crowd of horrified faces. He approached a group of people to his left. They shrieked and backed away in terror, some fell to the ground, but still crawled back.

*What's with everyone?*

"Hey what's-" he started as reached out his…hand. His jaw dropped at the sight of red sinewy muscles instead of his familiar pale skin covering his arm. His breath quickened as he looked down at himself to find not a shred of skin left on his body.

Just glistening red pulsating muscle, sickly pale tendons, and bone.

*My skin….. Where's my skin.*

He turned to his brothers. Blaine was standing deep in the crowd; His face was a pale shade of green and his hand was covering his mouth, desperately trying to keep the contents of his stomach from coming loose. Lance still stood frozen in place; An odd looking whitish leather material rested in the crooks of his arms.

On closer inspection, he saw it was his skin.

Instinctively, Frederick quickly crossed over to Lance to grab it. This movement seemed to snap everyone in the room out of the their shocked reverie; Along with one word.

"MONSTER!"

(Whew, That ends chapter 5! This had to be the hardest chapter to write since I've never really written argumentative dialogues, so I hope this was good as a first try. I really wanted to write a fic on the dynamic on the Plaid Princes and their family life. Mainly because I see so much hate for Frederick in the fandom of CPC, even in the later chapters. While I'm not going to condone or validate Frederick's behavior towards Gwen in the earlier chapters; What he did was rude, shallow, and just plain mean, I do want to show how his family and personal life has made him the person he is. Now, You can skip this part if you want because I'm just going to get into it.

Side note: I used some of the Frederick hate comments for Blaine's rant and Frederick's inner monologue, cause I thought it would be meta as hell.

First contributor, Frederick's upbringing. I remember reading a comment about Frederick's family being supportive but he wants to be ungrateful because he's not getting enough attention so he's acting out.

This isn't really true. The Plaid Family is far from a supportive and healthy unit. In earlier chapters after the first visit to the Pastel Kingdom, we see the king verbally berating Frederick with insults to his looks, competence, and in one part just flat out admits that Blaine is his most preferred child. This type of unhealthy treatment creates animosity between siblings, which explains Frederick's jealousy towards his younger brothers. This shows that the dad is kind of a jerk to his kids. His dad also flat out rejects Frederick's plans in a way that is neither constructive or helpful. Its just plain mean; Monkey see monkey do, if any one was wondering where Frederick got his mean streak. To add, his brothers Lance and Blaine also seem to be more involved in their social lives outside the family; They also seem to have a more in depth relationship with each other then with Frederick. Which is probably due to Frederick being isolated from them due to his weak immune system. So his feelings of anger towards his brothers finally noticing him is justified in the route I'm taking the story.

Sorry for the long explanation, but I wanted to back up my story with some in story elements to make it seem more likely. An alternate route if you may. In fact, I found the comments that spoke against Frederick to be very helpful in writing this chapter. I really needed to make Blaine's argument with him more real. But don't worry too much, I'm planning some wonderful reconciliation between Frederick and his brothers, So stay tuned!


	6. Ch.6

Absolute chaos erupted in the ballroom.

The second Frederick made a move towards his brother, a fear-charged pandemonium unleashed itself onto the entire crowd; Their once gleeful squeals turned into shrill shrieks that even caused the people outside to look up at the castle with a sense of unnerving. Back in the tumultuous dance hall, the sea of people began to pour out of the ballroom, desperately trying to get away from the thing in the room; The trampled cries of the clumsy rang out through the hall like a hellish church choir. A quarter of the crowd, mainly made up of Lance's combat class peers, came to the aid of the grey haired prince. They swarmed the space between the two brothers; Frederick felt himself being pulled away on a sea of hands that descended into a thunderous smashing of fists and boots. Frederick screamed over the chaos as the boys tried to pin him to the ground. "STOP! STOP! PLEASE! ITS ME! FREDERICK, STOP IT! I'M NOT A MONSTER! IT'S ME!" But his pleas fell on deaf ears as he curled up into a ball trying to protect himself from the vicious assault. Then he heard the main doors swing open and the thundering stamp of boots from the Plaid kingdom's royal guards; The metallic clang of their swords and spears tolled for command. The men yelled at the boys to remove themselves and they obeyed, leaving the battered skinless boy in the middle of a quickly developing circle of soldiers. The young boy rose from the floor as best he could, his bruised arms shakily holding him upright. He saw a pair of shining black boots approaching him. Frederick looked up and recognized him as his combative teacher, Captain Vince, who also led the royal guard. Hope blossomed in him as he smiled and said, "Captain Vince! It's me, Frederick! Please, tell them it's me. This is all-" In a flash the man kicked the boy square in the chest, knocking him on his back; A disgusted sneer plastered on his face. On the ground, Frederick coughed and choked as his combat teacher towered over him; His sword raised high and his face contorted in anger. "DON'T YOU DARE TRY TO DECEIVE ME, YOU WRETCHED BEAST!" Frederick shut his eyes tight, anticipating the blow when suddenly a booming voice called out. "WHAT IN THE HELL IS GOING ON HERE!" They both recognized the voice of the king. Captain Vince bowed respectfully as Frederick tried desperately to keep his mind in the moment; Edges of blackness were already creeping from the corners of his eyes. Through his increasingly blurry vision, he sees the out of focus image of his father looking down at him and Captain Vince speaking to him but a high pitched whine in his ears muffled their speech. *What's happening? Did they hit me that hard? Can you go deaf from being hit too hard?* Then Captain Vince goes up to him again; White flashes before his eyes before everything went dark.

\-------------------------------------------------------------

When Frederick awoke, he hissed at a horrible ache pounding in his skull and a sharp pain in his wrists. *Ugghhhh…. What did I do last night? My head hurts and I'm freezing my ass off. The last thing I remember was having that nightmare where I lost my-* When he opened his eyes fully, he felt his heart skip a beat. He was in the palace dungeon; His hands were chained to the cold stone wall by one medium length thick iron chain that was connected to a metal loop that was bolted to the wall. When he looked down at himself, he saw his bright red exposed body quivering from the damp chill of the sordid prison; His bare feet curled up instinctively due to the icy stone floor. He stayed silent for a while as his brain processed the grim reality of the situation; It came to a solution after a few seconds. "HEY! HEY! THIS IS ALL A BIG MISTAKE! I'M NOT A MONSTER! PLEASE, LET ME OUT!" he cried as he stood and tried to yank the chain off of him. But he stopped after a wave of dizziness knocked him off his feet. He tried to fight it and stand up but his legs wobbled and gave way. *Whoa...I don't feel so good. Why is everything spinning? What's happening?* Then he heard his stomach growl loudly, accompanied by a sharp pang that made him groan. *Oh, that's right. I haven't eaten since yesterday afternoon. I'm starving. Damn it, why didn't I eat at the party when I had the chance. Oh, of course I didn't, because I didn't know I was going to be thrown in a dark stinky dungeon.* When his stomach growled again, he grimaced as he felt the acid burn his sides; He looked down to his midsection and saw that he could make out the faint outline of his stomach, and a few other organs, pulsing under a layer of muscle. Frederick gave a soft whimper of terror at the sight. *Oh my God…..This can't be happening…. Mom was right, I'm a Boo-Hag…. But how? Boo hags are female. Can a boo hag be a man? Why is this happening now? What-* He grit his teeth as another hunger pang made his stomach convulse. *It really hurts…. I'm so hungry…. I need to find some food. But where?* He looked around to see if anyone left him something. A piece of bread, anything. But the dungeon was bare, except for some cobwebs and some moss growing from the stones. Then his ears picked up the sound of scraping followed by a squeak. He looked over to his right and saw a large rat scurrying along the side of the walls. His stomach growled again as he turned away in disgust. *No. No. No. I'm not that desperate. There is no way-* The small mammal stopped and started sniffing around; Slowing making its way over to the hungry boy.

He felt something come over him that made everything seem clear.

His dizziness was gone, along with the weakness. His eyes were zeroed in on the approaching rat, studying its every move. The closer the rat came, the more he could see its soft chestnut brown fur and small pinky nail-sized ears; A pleasing savory smell emanated from its fur. *It smells so good. Like a fresh cooked steak. I'm so hungry. I need to eat.* Frederick began to clench and un-clench his hands, unconsciously. He licked his lips as the rat got closer. He could hear its tiny heart racing in its fragile rib cage. Frederick's mouth watered as the furry creature was about three inches from him. Then without even a second thought, Frederick's hands shot out and grabbed the furry creature; The chains thankfully gave him enough slack to do so. The small mammal only had time to squeak once before its head was bit off by the famished boy. Frederick devoured it greedily; Crushing the small bones between his teeth and licking his hands as warm blood flowed down like the juices of a ripe strawberry. The cacophony of shattering bones and slurping filled the cell.

Mmmh.

He felt himself smile as he rolled the rat's guts around his mouth with his tongue, savoring the sweet and salty taste of its entrails. When he swallowed the last bite, the euphoria fell away like a theater curtain. *Did I just…* 

He covered his mouth as he felt himself gag in disgust. He tightened his throat as he fought the urge to throw up. *Don't you dare. That's probably going to be the only meal your going to have right now. At least for awhile.* Then he heard a door open with a heavy creak; Along with heavy footsteps. Frederick stood up, wiping the bloody remains from his mouth as best he could. The footsteps came and stopped at his prison door, followed by the jangling of keys. Then the lock clicked and the heavy wooden door opened. His father stood in the dim torch light of the prison walkway; The flames of the torches threw shadows that seemed to bond with his king's face, further darkening his grim expression. Frederick allowed himself to feel relief as he saw a familiar face. "Dad! I'm so glad you're here! Everyone out there thinks I'm some kind of monster. I know I look really… off. But it's really me dad! I'm your son, Frederick!"

The king was silent.

Frederick felt a cold pit of dread in his guts.

"Dad, you know it's me….right?" he asked, his voice shaking, nervously.

The king stepped closer to Frederick, his eyes were cold and observing orbs that starred at with intense curiosity and...something else. He grabbed Frederick's chin and began turning it over in his hand, studying every nuance of his face. Frederick waited for his response with bated breath. Finally after a few minutes, the king backed away and let out a sigh of relief.

"Thank God."

"Huh!?"

This was not the answer he was expecting. The king placed his hand behind his back and casually leaned against the wall. "For sixteen years, I've always wondered why you turned out the way you did. Spineless, weak, a complete disappointment. I thought it was my fault for a while, that's why out of both your brothers, I was the hardest on you. I figured I needed to take extra care in ridding you of your feebleness, so you could be a true man. Now, I see that it wasn't my fault for how you turned out. It was your filthy genes."

A familiar heat burned inside Frederick's chest like a furnace.

"I don't know how and I don't know why. But somehow one of those disgusting creatures from that horrid island must have infiltrated the castle, took advantage of your mother, and stuck us with their vile hell spawn. I should have known you weren't mine the minute you came out. You had my looks and you seemed to be normal, but when the doctors told me that you're constitution was weaker than that of the average child, my first thought was "He can't be mine, no child of mine would be a defective little worm." But now that I see you for who you really are, A disgusting imitation of a man, a failure of a human being, a thing that's both monstrous inside and out, I can finally be at peace knowing that I could never give birth to something so abominable.``

Every word that the king said was hitting him hard; Each one felt like a burning arrow singing his heart, charring away the callous that he had worked so hard to build over the years, and searing the tender flesh under it. This was hurt on a whole other level; The last of the cold unfeeling numbness that had protected the teen for all these years melted away to reveal a volatile and powerful wrath

that begged to be released on the old fool. Then the king reached to the side of his belt and pulled out Frederick's skin along with some simple clothes. He tossed them to him. "Put these on. Even though you're a beast, I can't have your grotesque body making the executioner ill for tomorrow's burning."

That did it.

Frederick's rage finally exploded in the form of a fierce and powerful roar that split his lips in a wide gaping muscle bound chasm of wrath. He jumped up and launched himself at his father, aiming to tear the king into ribbons. But the chains stopped his charge just about an inch from the ruler's face, the latter's mouth pulled into a smug smirk. "YOU FUCKING BASTARD! I'LL KILL YOU!" Frederick yelled as the king just watched, still smirking. Then he walked out of the cell as his son continued to holler, and struggle against his bonds; His fury grew into such a frenzy, his voice came out as a distorted animalistic screeching. The dungeon echoed with the livid song of the forsaken prince. Its raw harshness was made even more powerful by the anguished sobbing that mixed in with the screams.

Meanwhile, in the upstairs hallway, both Blaine and Lance waited for their father to return from the dungeon. Blaine was leaning against the wall on his left foot, the appendage twitching up and down, nervously. Lance paced in front of the dull iron door to the prison, wringing his hands. When the boys heard the heavy rasp of the door, they turned to see their father exiting the darkness; A bone chilling bay followed him before he cut it off by promptly shutting the entrance. The brothers bombarded their dad with questions,

"What happened?"

"What's wrong with Frederick?"

"Is he going to be ok?"

"Can we help him?"

"Is he cursed"

"Who did it?"

"BOYS!"

The two young men clamp their mouths shut. The king gives his sons a somber gaze.

"I'm sorry, boys, but your brother, Frederick, is dead. That thing took his skin and only pretended to be him."

Lance's eyes widened in horror and disbelief. Blaine took on the same expression as he covered his mouth and averted his eyes. "No that's not true! That's Frederick. He needs us." Lance says as he tries to push past his father to get to the door. The king firmly stands in front of it. "Lance, you can't-" he starts to say but Lance tries to push him aside, extending his hand to the bolt. His blueish grey eyes shimmered with disbelieving sorrow.

"I wanna see him."

"Lance that's not-"

"I wanna see my brother."

"Lance, please-"

"GET OUT OF MY WAY!" he yells as he puts more effort in to pushing his dad aside,"That's enough!" the king yells, pushing his son back with all his strength. The middle brother is knocked off balance and starts to stumble backwards, but quickly regains it. "That monstrosity is not your brother! It's a bloodthirsty freak that would kill you where you stand! Your brother is dead! His body is rotting god knows where in the woods! That's the harsh truth Lance that your going to have to accept!" Lance stood their enraged, tears streaming down his face. "You better not be crying for that thing. Save those tears for the funeral." Blaine, who stood there in stunned silence, trying not to cry himself, walked toward his brother extending a comforting hand to his shoulder. Lance roughly turned away and stomped off. "Lance, wait!" Blaine called out, starting to follow his brother. "Let him go. He needs to blow off some steam." The king says as he waves his hand dismissively. He walks away to his room as he says. "You should get some rest too. I have something very important I need to discuss with you tomorrow morning." Blaine nods numbly as he is left alone in the hall.

Back in the dungeon, Frederick is slumped against the cold stone wall, both physically and emotionally drained. His throat is raw and sore from all the screaming, his head aches, and his face is damp with tears. *So this is it, huh. I'm going to die in a few hours.* He held up his skinless hand to eye level. He took in the layers of thin fibers that made up the muscles of his hand; How the minuscule fibers gently pulsed up and down from the blood running through his veins. He saw that at the ends of his fingers, raw muscle gave way to clean white phalanges. When he tapped them to the stone floor they made a resounding click. *Huh, these are actually pretty strong. Now that I think about it, my body doesn't feel as sore as it should be. I actually feel… good.* Frederick inspected the rest of his body and found this to be true. During the ballroom brawl, he practically felt the bruises and knots beginning to blossom all over him. But now, he felt better than ever; When looked over, not even the faintest hint of bruise could be seen on his bare body.

His damage had been healed in the span of three hours.

*This is amazing! I don't feel hurt at all. In fact….* He ran his hand over his shoulders and arms. He lets out a gasp of delight at the slight toughness of his muscles. *Oh my God. This is fucking awesome! What else can I do? Does this mean I'm super strong? It could have happened because my muscles took the damage directly, but how did they heal so fast? I wanna…..know more.* It was like a fog had lifted; His mind was clear.

"Fuck everything. I'm getting out of here."

He scanned his chains, trying to find a chink or any kind of flaw in its design. While the chain itself was pretty sturdy, the hook it was looped around was old and rusty; In fact, it had been greatly loosened by his freak out hours earlier. He stood up and walked until the chain held him back. Then he allowed his body to fall forward, the chain just about stopping him from hitting the floor. With the combined force of his full weight and gravity, the hook snaps from the wall; Frederick fell to the hard floor and hissed at the pain. He remains silent, hoping that the guards wouldn't come in to investigate. He only hears a small shuffle and a lackluster knock. "Hey, keep it down in there!" said a groggy voice from the other side. Frederick scans the chains around his wrists as he hears the other guard scold the groggy one. He's about to give them a good tug, but stops when a better idea comes to mind.

Out in the prison hall:

"Harry, no sleeping on the job."

"C'mon, I'm just resting my eyes."

"Quit goofing around. We-"

Suddenly, a strange noise interrupts their conversation. "The hell is that?" asked the guard as he placed his ear to the door. It took him a few seconds to comprehend the sound as choking. "Oh, shit!

The things trying to punch its own ticket!" The guard fumbled for his keys as the choking sounds were followed by heavy thuds. When they found the correct key, the two men kicked the door in and entered the room.

To find it empty.

Harry, still out of sorts, scratches his head in confusion. "What the-"

His voice is replaced by gasps of air as a thick chain tightens around his throat. The alert guard snapped his head towards his partner and saw the fake prince strangling the middle age man with his own chain. The monster had put his disguise back on and some simple clothes; He looked like Prince Frederick, but he knew that it was all part of the trick. The suffocating guard aches his back and gropes upwards to scratch his attacker, trying to get him to lose his grip. But Frederick held on as he tried to avoid the man's hands. Harry is able to lurch his body to the left, exposing the creature's back to his comrade. The alert man takes the chance to whip out his sword and charges to stab Frederick with a loud cry. For the fighting prince, time slows down as he instinctively turns to face the charging guard, dragging Harry to the front. The other guard is moving too fast to stop himself from driving his sword into Harry's stomach. His eyes widen as his partner utters a startled gurgle and a dark spot blooms on his uniform. The other guard is too shocked by the accidental stabbing to see the young man's fist smash his face, cracking his nose. The alert guard stumbles back holding his bleeding nose. He steps up and wildly swings at Frederick; His vision swam as he hoped at least one punch landed on the prisoner. Frederick dodges the erratic swings, rears his chain back and swung it at the guards skull. It makes a satisfying fleshy thud and the guard crumples to the ground. Frederick stands in stunned silence, taking in the bloody scene. *Oh, shit on tits…..That…. didn't go the way I thought it would.* His eyes go over to the guard lying dead in a pool of blood, then over to the knocked out guard; The ring of keys hangs from his belt loop.

*No turning back now.*

He snatches the keys off, unlocks his chains, and exits the room; Leaving everything in his prison cell. When he steps out into the prison hallway, he is surprised to find no one else here. *Huh, dad only sent two men to guard me. I feel like I should be insulted, but I'm just going to take it.* To his left were a few rows of cells and at the end of it was the staircase that led back to the main hall of the castle. *Can't go there.* To the right, was a longer stretch of cells that curved to the left. *Father says that the prison has two ways to get in. The second entrance must be this way.* So he made his way down the right until he came to the left bend. When he looked down the new hall, he saw that it ended in a guardsmen station, made up out of a battered table and a few stools. A few bottles scattered on the floor showed that a few of the guards decided to let loose. Past the station, was the door that led outside; The palish blue moonlight shone through the tiny barred window at the top. Frederick walked past the station, careful not to bump into any of the furniture for fear of alarming everyone. Just when he reached the door, he froze when he heard voices come from the other side.

*Shit!*

He ducked down, heart racing. *Don't come in. Don't come in. Don't come in.*

After a few minutes of nothing, Frederick worked up enough courage to peek through the tiny window. No one was in front of the door. So he carefully opened the door as quietly as he could, until he made a slit wide enough to squeeze through. Frederick's damp skin was cooled by the cool night breeze. The half moon shone dimly on the field that stretched out into the woods. *That's my way out! I just need to get to the enchanted woods and then I'm home free.* Then he heard the voices again. The door he snuck out of was part of a wall that jutted outwards, creating a small blind spot for him. The voices were coming from behind the wall. When Frederick peaked around the corner, he saw a total of eight guards on the side of the building away from the door, but still close enough to see him if he made a run for it. They looked like they were trying to get their torches lit and a lot of them were complaining about how dark it was. *Wait, if they can't see, then how the fuck am I able to see them? I can even see the family crest on their uniforms- Hold on, I can see in the dark!? Gah, no time for curiosity. I have to get them farther away. So I can vanish without them seeing me.* Frederick felt his bare foot touch something cold and hard.

*A bottle. That'll work.*

He picks it up and peaks his head out from the side of the wall. *I just need to throw it far enough to buy me some time. *He rears the bottle back and chucks it with all his strength. It flies over the guards heads and lands with a crash. Alerted by the sudden sound the guards head towards the direction of the noise. They didn't even see the escaped prince run from the prison and disappear into the shadowy tree line.

Back in the dungeon:

Another guard is making his way towards the monster's cell to take over for the midnight shift. He sees that the door to the prison is opened and quickly makes his way into the cell. Only to back out of the room, with horror filled eyes; His shaky legs buckle under him as he takes in the carnal scene.

Frederick bends over panting heavily, almost hyperventilating; His bare feet stung from being ravaged by sharp tree branches. He has no idea how far he has run but he knows that he can no longer see the castle looming over him and that was good. Now that he had stopped, the full weight of the day crashed upon him like a wave. The dizziness returned with a vengeance; Everything in his line of sight wobbled and warped itself into strange shapes. He fell to the ground, sweat and water from the dungeon made his body shake violently. *Sleep…. I need to sleep.* He crawled over to some bushes and curled up behind one of the largest ones, not even caring about the lack of blankets or the hard cold ground beneath him. Within minutes, he is asleep.

Unbeknownst to the slumbering boy, a tall hooded figure approaches the fugitive's resting form. The figure cocks their head, quizzically at the sight. "What's a kid doing here?"


	7. Ch.7

Ch.7

The late morning sun shone through the tall windows of the Plaid Castle's grand dining hall. All the members of the Plaid family were seated at the long dining room table. Save for one.

King Leland, as expected, was seated at the head of the table, tucking into a bowl of oatmeal topped with colorful fruit. Blaine was seated next to him with the same meal, taking small bites with very little enthusiasm. Lance was seated two seats away from Blaine, stirring his oatmeal around mindlessly. His wide jittery pupils were fixed on the thick milky surface of his breakfast. The queen was, as usual, sitting far away near the end of the table. Blaine cast a glance over to his younger brother. Lance looked awful, his tan skin was paler than milk saturated tea, his eyes were red rimmed, moist, and bloodshot; He looked like he had been crying the whole night. His normally loose and carefree body language was now stiff and tightly wound like a pressured bed spring. Blaine also did not get much sleep that night, but he was able to hide it with plenty of cover up and water. When Lance's eyes locked with his, his heart ached as he took in the pure sorrowed laced desperation shimmering in their depths. Blaine mouthed out "You okay?" Before Lance could respond, their father cleared his throat, everyone turned to face him, except for his wife.

"Boys, I have terrible news. Last night….. There was a murder."

Blaine's heart skipped a beat; Lance held his breath as he clenched his spoon so tight his knuckles turned white. "The monster has escaped. He attacked and killed one of the guards and put the other one in the infirmary in critical condition."

Blaine felt himself shiver as the grim news descended on him like a storm. On the other hand, Lance let his body go slack as relief flooded his tense muscles. Their Father's eyes darkened as he spoke again, "This is a call to war, boys. This barbaric beast somehow trespassed on to royal grounds and has been among us for god knows how long. Do you know what this means? It means that we have been too soft on beings like this. We knowingly allow their kind to socialize in our town, own businesses, and even marry and have relations with….. Other humans. Just the thought of someone deranged enough to permit such a defilement to themselves….. Even have a child with them….. Makes me sick to my stomach. We have been too lenient on these abominations to nature, we need to start making more rules to contain them…. Keep them in line. Or else more bloodshed will happen." Suddenly, The king stood up, knocking his knees into the table causing it to shake. "That is why, as a response to this call to anarchy and debauchery, the kingdom will see the creation of the Royal Creature Control unit. An armed force that will be tasked and trained to fight off these beasts and protect human lives." His cold hard eyes peered down to his sons,

"Blaine. Lance. I'm counting on both of you to lead in the creature control campaign."

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------

While his eyes were still closed, Frederick smiled happily as the warmth of the sun chased away the cold of the night. His whole body felt like he was embraced in a soft blanket; He curled deeper into it, wanting to soak in all its comfort.

*Wait a minute…...*

He forced his eyes opened, to see that the tan yellow canvas of a tent. *What the-!?* He sat up with a jolt and scanned the small space. *Where am I? How long have I been asleep? Did I just get kidnapped? Shit, how did I not wake up?* Then he hears a sizzling sound outside the tent. He crept over to the flap and pulled it open. The first sensation that came to him was the savory aroma of eggs and frying meat. It would have made him relax if he didn't see what was in front of him. A large, heavy built man with snow white hair was leaning over a small fire, his back to the tent. *FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCCCCCKKKKK…. Ok, just…..quietly head over to the treeline…. Wait, he'll catch me in no time… Oh, how about I push him into the fire and then make a break for it... Yeah that's a way better plan.* Frederick slowly crawled out of the tent and towards the stranger, ready to do just that.

Suddenly, the man turned his head towards him. "Oh, Good morning, did you sleep well?" he said casually.

Frederick was so surprised, he let out a yelp as he reared back on his bottom and scurried away from him like a crab. The man calmly observed him with steely gray eyes. His facial features were sharp and severe like the edge of a sword; He looked like a villain in a fairy tale. He had three jagged black lines etched on each of his cheeks. He was dressed in a simple white shirt, black pants, and sturdy boots. His long dark cloak made him look much more gargantuan and intimidating. "Who are you? What do you want with me?" Frederick demanded in the toughest voice he could muster. The man, still crouching, holds up a huge hand in a gesture of peace. "Calm down. I don't want to hurt you." He held out a flat stone that had two glossy sunny side eggs and a side of meat resting on its flat surface. "You hungry?" Frederick gave the man a hard stare as his stomach growled fiercely. The man, his face still, says, "Go on. It's not poisoned or anything. See?" He took a bite out of the meal to show he was telling the truth, then he extended the plate to Frederick once again. The teen, still unsure about the man's intentions, stared at him for a few seconds before the delicious smell finally won over suspicion. Frederick snatched the plate away and gobbled up the eggs and meat bare handed, manners be damned. The man's eyes widened a bit. "Jeez, slow down, kid. You're gonna make yourself sick if you keep eating like that. You really must have been hungry." he said as he turned back to the fire to cook more. Frederick licks the stone plate and says, "Sorry, I haven't eaten in a while and last-" Frederick stops himself. *What am I doing?! I can't go and spill my guts to a stranger about me being a fugitive.* The man turns his head to meet his eyes. "What was that?" he asked. Frederick looked off to the side. "Nothing." The man serves Frederick another helping of breakfast, which he eats heartily. But a little slower this time. As he eats, the man takes a seat in front of him on the grass."So what's a kid like you doing out here in the enchanted forest? Did you get lost?" Frederick takes his time chewing to think of a good answer. *Just be vague. Don't get into any details. Just make up a story and you'll be fine.* "Well, I'm not from around here, I thought that the forest would be a good place to rest up before I continued on my way."

"You're lying."

Frederick paused mid bite.

"Uh..what?"

"If you were a traveler you would at least have a pack or some supplies with you. Any traveler worth their salt would know that. They also know better than to travel with no shoes." The man said as he looked down to Frederick's dirty and scratched up feet. Frederick, flustered, replies, "I…. lost them a little while back. Got jumped by some thieves and they took everything I had-"

"That's a lie, too. And even if it wasn't, I can tell that you're a noble's kid.

"What...but.."

"Even though you were hungry you kept your mouth closed, your posture is perfect, and even though you're hungry, you still look pretty well fed."

Frederick was quiet; He was gripping the now empty plate tightly in his hands as he stared at the white haired man in fear. "I'll take that as a yes. Well, you can relax. I'm not going to hold you for ransom, or anything." The man stood up to his full height, leading Frederick to do the same. Even standing the man towered over him like a tree. "Let's just take you back to town and-" Frederick backed away, still clutching the plate. "No! Please, don't! I can't go back! You don't understand!" Before Frederick knew it, The man quickly closed the gap between them and grabbed his hand firmly. "Take it easy, You won't get in trouble with-." It was like someone had flipped a switch in his mind. Everything went in slow motion; Frederick could actually count his heart beats. He took the stone plate with his free hand and bashed it over the stranger's crown of white hair. "AHHHHH!" the man cried as he let go of Frederick to grab his injured head. The teen used this chance to sprint into the tree line. He only ran a few feet before he felt himself being grabbed from behind and being put in a melvin lock. Frederick started to flail around in wild desperation. "NO! NO! NO! LET ME GO! LET ME GO! DON'T TAKE ME BACK! PLEASE, I'M SORRY! I JUST WANT TO LEAVE!"

Whitney looked at him confused. "What? Where are you even going?"

"Anywhere but here!"

"That's not a direction! Look just calm down and-"

"THEY"LL KILL ME! THEY"LL KILL ME! IF THEY SEE MY FACE, THEY'LL KILL ME!" The man's mouth dropped open at the thick saturation of panic in the boy's voice. He relaxed his grip and Frederick slipped out of it and put five feet of distance between himself and the man. His legs trembled under him; It took all of his strength to keep himself standing. His heart hammered in his chest as he awaited the stranger's next move. For a while the man was silent, just staring at the boy. His brows furrowed in concentration and his eyes flashing with a mix of curiosity and concern. Finally, he spoke in a calm tone, "Alright. I won't take you back."

Frederick let out a sigh of relief that almost brought him to his knees. "Thank you." The white haired man turned and started toward the campsite. Frederick followed him from a distance. When he reached the site, the man was stomping out the fire and gathering up his supplies. He turned to him and pointed to the tent, "Just break down the tent and will be ready." Frederick cocked his head, curiously. "...where are we going?" he asks. "If you're trying to disappear, you'll have to go to the enchanted part of the forest. Nobody is crazy enough to search for anyone who goes there." Frederick nodded and quickly made his way over to the tent and started breaking it down. He felt the man's stare, so he turned to him. "What is it?" he asked. The man had an eyebrow raised as he said, "You want to go into the enchanted forest? A place completely uncharted, filled with many unknown mind warping creatures, and is famously known for its high disappearance rate? You do know that, right?" Frederick turned back to his task with narrowed eyes. "If it means no one will find me then it's worth it. As far as I'm concerned, I'm dead either way."

The two travelers hiked through the thick brush in silence as the sun beat at their backs. The pale haired man looked over to the young man. The boy was panting with effort as sweat dripped from his face in fat drops. He was obviously not prepared for the choice he had made.

"When we pass the border into the fae area, I want you to stay close to me."

The boy turned to him with suspicion etched on his face.

"Why?"

"The enchanted forest is no place for a sheltered rich boy like you. You wouldn't survive the night. So it's only right that I keep an eye on you until you decide what you want to do."

How do I know that you're not the danger I should be watching out for?

The man peered at him from the side.

"If I honestly wanted to kill you, We wouldn't be having this conversation now." The man replied, unfazed.

Frederick went pale as his mind raced with the grim outcomes he could have faced last night.

*He's right. I could have been killed that night. He had every chance to take advantage of my weakened state. But then….*

He looked over to the large man. His steely grey eyes stared ahead, narrowed with focus.

*Can I really trust him? He seems like a nice guy, but is that just a ruse to get me to lower my guard? Is there a more sinister reason for him to keep alive? Should I run when I get the chance? But he does have a point, I've never had to survive in the woods like this. Not even in the school's training program. Hell, I don't even know much about surviving the normal woods let alone the enchanted part. Ok, I'll-*

"Kid."

Frederick jumped out of his thoughts and turned toward the man, who was looking at him like he had been talking to him for a while.

"Huh?"

"I was asking you what your name was."

"Hmmmm. You first."

"Seriously?"

"It's only fair. You tell me your name, I'll tell you mine.

"Ok, It's Whitney. Of the Monochrome kingdom."

"…...I'm Frederick."

The two were silent again as they walked deeper into the woods. The constant appearance of trees was starting to lull the teen into an indifferent state from the natural monotony. It was a never ending pattern of trees, bushes, twigs, and rocks. The only thing that kept Frederick alert was the constant poking and prodding in his feet from the twigs and tiny pebbles. The glaring sun beamed at his back, soaking Frederick's white shirt with sticky sweat. By this time a cloud of gnats were buzzing around his head; Their insistent buzzing caused sparks of irritation. He scratched at his chest as he felt their tiny bodies graze the skin. His fingers gently pulled the flap of flesh that made a short straight line on his sternum; The skin slit served as an easy way to remove his fleshy layer, which was a tempting thought at the moment.

All these annoyances completely disguised the bolt of serendipity that hailed from the ether.

The moment the teen cryptid took another step, he felt a jolt rush through him that made him gasp sharply.

*That…..What…. Is this?*

His vision of the wood changed; He stopped in his tracks as the redundancy of nature was erased from his very eyes. While everything seemed the same on its surface, a different more intimate change had occurred in the fabric of the area. Frederick felt it enter his lungs; The very air was charged with energy, an odd sort of energy that tickled the hairs on the back of your neck, that tingles at your fingertips, and made each breath you took a fresh and fizzy delight. It traveled his flesh and into his veins; Its tickling of his veins and blood vessels set loose a giggle from his lips. When it reached his head, he could feel it spread all over from his crown to his temples. Frederick swayed a little as he was stricken by a peculiar euphoric dizziness that made his head feel light, but it was accepted. It was the type of vertigo that one experiences as a child after spinning around for a minute. He was snapped out of it when he felt Whitney's strong hand steady him; His head snapped to him with eyes wide and alert.

"Frederick, are you alright?"

Frederick looked at him for a moment, then at the hand on his shoulder; A rise of discomfort burned in his chest. He plucked it from his person. "Yeah, I'm fine. I just got woozy for a sec."

Whitney furrowed his brows, looking like he didn't believe him. "Well, this is a good enough spot to take a break. There isn't a lot of hostile activity near the border, so just sit down while I scout out ahead for a camping spot. Holler if you need me." Whitney said as he went off into some bushes. Frederick took his advice and sat down on a rock nearby.

*That was really weird. But it felt nice, too. Like going on a theme park ride for the first time.* Frederick took the time to look around. He had picked a good spot to rest since the rock was nestled right under a thick cover of leaves; An oasis of relief from the oppressive rays of the late afternoon. Frederick smiled as he tilted his face upwards, basking in the shadow of the fauna. He closed his eyes as he opened up his senses to the chirping of birds, the soft babbling of water, and the rustling of trees. His hearing focused and narrowed on the individual beats of nature; An earthy and contagious beat that pulsed from the very ground beneath his feet served as the most prominent sound. His foot tapped in time to the melody. Through the ocean of earthy music he swore that underneath it was another sound. A faint, and whispery peal that one had to listen really hard for. It sounded almost like… voices…. Singing…..

"Hey, Frederick."

Once again, Frederick's heart leapt out of his chest as he turned around to see Whitney coming out from the thrush with a drinking pouch. "We're in luck. There's a river over there. We can make a camp somewhere close to it." he said as he walked over to Frederick and handed him the pouch. "Oh, thanks." Frederick said before taking a swig. He felt Whitney's intense stare boring into him as he stood a few feet from him. Frederick frowned and gave him a medium-heat glare. "Do you stare at everyone like this or am I just special?" he said. Whitney, his face still neutral, asked, "Are you sure you're ok? You've been spacing out a lot and almost fainted just now. Did you hit your head?" Frederick rubbed the back of his head, nervously. "I wasn't going to faint…. and, yeah I hurt my head a while ago...But it's nothing seri-" Whitney rushed over to the boy, "What? Why didn't you tell me? Do you know how dangerous that is?"he said as he reached out to grab Frederick's head. But the teen backed away from his touch with a hiss, scooting off his rock and into the bushes. "Don't touch me!" he yelled in a stern voice.

Whitney stopped his approach and frowned; His storm cloud eyes glinted with stern concern, "Don't jerk yourself around like that. You might have a concussion. Stop being silly and come here." Frederick narrowed his eyes as he scooted farther away. Whitney sighed as he crouched down to the teen's sitting position. "I'm not going to do anything unpleasant to you. I promise. I just want to make sure you're not hurt. Just, let me check your eyes, please." Frederick considered the earnest look in Whitney's eyes, stood up and warily approached him. The man took Fredrick's head in his hands and tilted it up to the light to look at his pupils. "Ok…they're dilating. That's good. When did you hit your head?" Whitney asked.

"Yesterday night." Frederick replied, squeezing his wrists nervously.

"Did you feel any nausea or got a headache after it happened?"

"Not really but I did have a headache, but it went away after I went to sleep."

"You went to…. Nggghh." Whitney let go of the boy's face as he pinched the bridge of his nose. Frederick, seeing his frustration, looked down to the ground sheepishly as he fiddled with his fingers. "Under the circumstances, I couldn't get medical attention at the time." he said. Whitney let out a big sigh before he looked at him again, his brows were closely knit. "Well, it doesn't look like you have a concussion, but try not to push yourself too hard and let me know if you start feeling sick." Whitney walked back to where their new campsite laid. Frederick followed a few steps behind.

The rest of the afternoon was spent setting up their new base; Frederick was tasked with putting up the tent, while Whitney went off to catch dinner. After many frustrating tries consisting of the tent either falling down or standing proudly before falling down again, Frederick finally got the tent to stand. He took a look around and saw that there were some edible flowers growing close to the site. "Hey, there's some hibiscus. Oh, and some rosemary… Here are some lilacs…. These carnations look good... Ooooo, mint leaves!"

When Whitney returned, the sun was beginning to set, so he started on making a fire, while Frederick washed himself in the lake, far downstream of course. Whitney used some of the flowers to brew some tea. He added the more savory herbs to spice up the beef stew he was cooking up. When night covered the land with its cool ever expanding shade, the two travelers sat around the fire having dinner. Frederick slurped down his soup, practically inhaling his meal as some dribbled down his chin. When he removed the bowl from his lips, he gaped at Whitney in amazement. "This is so good. Were you a chef or something?" Whitney poured himself some more tea as he replied, "When you've been out here as long as I have, you pick up a few skills. Nice job picking the herbs. The mint leaves go really well with the chamomile. I didn't think you'd know about this kind of thing."

"Well, I read a lot of books on plants back home and most of the facts just stuck with me."

"Hmmh."

The two were silent again as the crickets chirped and the river rippled. Frederick gazed at Whitney, who was nudging a stick in the fire. He took a sip of his tea to calm his nerves, "Hey, listen. If we are going to be traveling together, then I want to make a deal with you."

Whitney raised an eyebrow.

"What kind of deal?"

"I can ask one question and you have to answer truthfully, and vice versa."

"I suppose that's fair. It'll make things a lot smoother."

"Alright, I'll go first. What's the story with that weird tattoo on your face?"

Whitney touched his stripes reflexively.

"Tattoo?..Oh, you mean these tiger stripes…. Um, I guess you could say I got them because I needed a humbling reminder of a very important life lesson…. That what goes around…eventually comes back around.

Frederick cocked his head and gave him a weird look.

*Then why didn't you just get a tattoo of the quote if you wanted to remember that lesson so badly. But whatever.*

"I wouldn't want to subject a kid to this kind of grueling tale, but to put it lightly, I was a bad person. I took what I want and did what I pleased, no matter whether it caused others unhappiness or risked my own life."

Whitney peered at Frederick, his silver eyes seemed to glow in the moonlight. "My turn. Why did a kid like you, from a well off family, decide to run away and risk his life hiding in a part of the woods that's crawling with monsters?"

Frederick, turned his gaze to the ground, "It's a long story but to put it briefly….. I ran away because of what I am….. What I became one night….. If I stayed then I would have met my death today." The two were silent.

"That…..told me absolutely nothing." Whitney said in a disappointed tone.

Frederick smirked.

"Well I figured since you were going to be vague and mysterious. Then so should I."

Whitney frowned, slightly, "You still don't trust me?"

"With a story as blurry as that, should I?"

Whitney silently eyed the smug boy, half annoyed and half impressed. "Touche."

Both guys finished their meals and were getting ready to go to sleep. Frederick was crawling into the tent as he asked, "You aren't coming in?" Whitney replied as he crouched down into the grass a few feet away, "No. I'm used to sleeping outside and plus you're going to need me out here." Frederick watched as the man circled around on his hands and knees before settling in to what looked like a comfortable spot. He entered his tent, pulled the small sheet over him and shut his eyes.

*What a weirdo…. At least he's a nice weirdo.*

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Frederick bolted upright from his slumber in a cold sweat; Not really knowing what had woken him. His eyes frantically surveyed his surroundings. His mouth was dry as paper; It felt like dry and fury like he had a squirrel for a tongue. He brought his knees to his chest as pain ripped through his stomach. *What's wrong with me? Why do I feel so hungry? What's happening to me?* His throat stung as he tried to swallow the little spit he had; A coppery taste coated his mouth making swallowing even more difficult.

*I need a drink.*

He flipped open the tent flap and crawled outside the tent. His damp palms crushed the cold grass, releasing its leafy smell. When he stood up and looked around, he was greeted to a whole new world. The area was alive with the croak of frogs, the chirp of crickets, and the patter of paws. He could see it all even without light. He could make out the slimy bodies of worms at the river bank, moths flying through the air, and Whitney's sleeping body. Frederick knew the big adult was asleep by the steady beat of his heart. *He looked so peaceful, all curled up like a cat in his cloak.* Frederick stepped closer, drawn in by the dull thud that filled his ears and muffled out the rest of the world. As he got closer, his nostrils were filled with a spicy sweet smell; Memories of imported bitter sweet chili chocolate bubbled to the forefront of his mind. He licked his lips as his mouth began to water. He knelt down as Whitney's gentle heart beat rang in his ears, followed by a rapid rushing sound that resonated with the rhythm of the heart. He gently cradled Whitney's head, turning it over to expose his pale neck. The source of the delicious aroma was right under his skin, he could smell it; It was like those stuffed chocolates that had cream inside. He lowered his head to the snow-white skin, his mouth slowly opening.

*So good.*

Frederick snapped his head back up as he realized what he was about to do.

*What am I doing?*

He put Whitney's head down as he stood and backed away from him, hands clamped over his mouth.

*Oh No…..I was going to… Oh, fuck.*

He felt the skin of his palm graze over something sharp. When felt around his mouth, he was horrified to feel a sharp set of fangs. Frederick continued to back away from Whitney until he was almost to the tree line. He gave him one last look before sprinting off into the trees.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quick question for you readers out there. In the beginning of the story I put Frederick's thoughts in Italics. So it would be easier. But the, now that I look at the format on here, it seems like I can't put Frederick's thoughts in italics any more since the font doesn't carry over. Let me know in the comment section if you guys need some clarification between Frederick's thoughts and his actual verbal speech. Also I really enjoyed writing this chapter, and I'm pretty proud of some of the descriptions there. Thank You all for reading!


	8. Ch.8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Whitney’s thoughts)  
> *Frederick’s thoughts*

The early dawn light beamed through the windows of the colorful interior of the Pastel Castle. The soft gentle colors that lined the extravagant furniture and fixtures of the grand home awakened with a smile as the servants of the palace quietly bustled around the dimly lit halls; The maids set the table, careful to not clink the flatware, and cooked the meals with the same diligence to abstain from noise. These precautions were made so as to not awaken the four young Pastel children slumbering in their rooms; Their father would scold the maids for ruining his precious children’s sleep, albeit in a more whinny manner then a harsh one. It seemed like the beginning of another regular day. But in the cozy office of the eldest member of the royal family, today promised to be full of sorrow and grief. King Jack’s wizened hands shook as he ogled the letter that was sent to him this morning from his dear friend, King Leland of the Plaid Kingdom.  
He couldn't believe it.  
Prince Frederick was dead, slaughtered and replaced by a despicable blood craving monster. His hand reached out behind him for his chair, needing to sit down. He gripped the arms and let his legs go limp as a multitude of emotions came over him, sinking into the chair as they came down on him with their heavy burden; A weathered hand covers his mouth as tears of grief ran down his cheeks. “That poor boy… How horrible……” King Jack choked out, his heart aching in sympathy. He couldn’t even imagine the pain his friend was feeling right now; To have your youngest child taken away from you in such a violent and cruel way. As a father himself, he knew that this tragedy must be tearing Leland apart. He would have to see him right away and attend the funeral. When his body could move again, he got up and exited from his private office to inform his children.  
\-----------------------------------------  
Whitney cracked open his silver eyes, forced to by the sun’s piercing glare on his thin lids. They narrowed at the sight of the river’s blinding glint. Its light rivaling the brilliance of the most pure diamonds. He saw by the sun’s position that it was around eight in the morning. The pale man rose from the grass on his hands and knees with a tired moan. He arched his back and rested his bottom half on his haunches, stretching like a cat would after its nap. “Wow, I slept like a log last night… Strange, I’m normally a pretty light sleeper. Was I that tired?” he said as he scratched his head and got to his feet. He turned to the tent and his drowsiness faded away as he remembered the events of yesterday. “Oh, crap. I forgot about him.” He walked briskly over to the tent and lifted the flap to see inside.  
“Where did he go?”  
Whitney turned his nose to the air, trying to pinpoint the youngster’s scent. A trail led away from the campsite and deep into the woods. His colorless eyes narrowed into slits as he hissed through gritted teeth,  
“Damn kid.”  
He sprinted off into the woods at top speed, leaping over large roots and deep ridges. His rapid steps fluttered across the ground, sending leaves and twigs flying through the air. The wind whistled in his ears as the teen’s scent twisted and curved through the trees; The erratic pattern along with the sharp scent of frenzy made Whitney’s heart clench. Then the boy’s ink and paper aroma mingled with a sharp coppery tang that nestled into the back of his throat.  
Blood.  
The cursed man quickened his stride, becoming a monochrome blur flashing through the verdant maze; A sickening dread squeezed his chest as spurs of anxiety racing through his bloodstream. He came to a stop before a massive circle of sentry like trees that guarded his view of its center. The stench of blood reached its pinnacle as the sharp odor pooled in the middle. Whitney stood at its edge, his heart thumping against his rib cage. He swallowed hard as he took in a few breaths to calm his uneasy heart. He stood there for a few moments before finally stepping past the enormous trees and into the clearing.  
The sight before him made his hair stand on end.  
The green grass was littered with a plethora of mammal corpses; Rabbits, badgers, squirrels, foxes, and even a few wild pigs laid lifelessly on the ground, their throats torn out, exposing ragged flesh. Their bodies were shriveled and pale from lack of fluids so they resembled stringy, moist beef jerky.  
That was not the most spine chilling image.  
That prize went to the creature sleeping amongst the bloodless carcasses. It had the appearance of a human but it’s raw muscles and exposed bone spoke volumes of its otherworldly nature. A pale film like sheet covered its body like a blanket. Whitney began walking toward the cryptid, taking extra care not to step on the cadavers lest he startled it. As he got closer, his fingernails sharpened into claws for fear that the slightest sound would disturb the thing’s slumber causing it to attack. When he was right in front of it, he could see that the film over its body was skin and corn yellow hair had sprouted from its bleached skull.  
Familiar yellow hair… along with a familiar scent under the thick and heavy smell of animal blood.  
He knelt down to get a better look at the creature’s face; He could see that sleep did not come easy to the cryptid for its face and eyes were slightly creased with distraught. From it, rose the familiar paper and ink aroma that Whitney had followed here. His mouth dropped open as realization and shock struck him like a spear of lightning.  
He knew who this was. His smell and that hair. It was unmistakable.  
“Frederick.”  
\---------------------  
Earlier in the wee hours of the night, Frederick was a victim of the restless sleep phenomenon; A state that most find themselves in when they are stressed or in stressful situations. To put it frankly, Frederick was merely closing his eyes, trying to sleep but his anxiety, shame, self fear, and the nightly noises of the forest kept him alert.  
So that single word broke the spell of fitful sleep that was upon him.  
He lashed out at the voice with a hiss. Whitney leapt backwards, feeling a piece of his cloak tear away. Frederick scrambled to his feet, poising himself for another attack. When his frenzied eyes focused on Whitney, his snarl fell from his face and was replaced with dismay. Whitney was speechless as he became transfixed on the teen’s eyes. The whites of the sclera were pitch black, bringing out his lime hued irises. Before Whitney could say a word, the skinless boy took off into the tree line at full speed. “Hey, Wait!” Whitney called as he ran after him. At first he thought he could catch up to him, but the bloody raw teen started zig-zagging through the trees with an inhuman speed. (When did he get so fast?) Whitney increased his pace, trying to catch up, but the teen kept changing directions frequently, almost disappearing a few times. Then Frederick made a sharp turn to the left and Whitney followed him. He found himself in front of a valley populated with thick bushes and thin trees. Thick vines hung from their branches like snakes.  
The teen cryptid had disappeared.  
Whitney breathed heavily as he scanned the area for some sort of clue to the kid’s whereabouts, but he found nothing. Once again he smelled the air to locate him. The paper, ink, and blood aroma was still strong in the area. At first he wanted to go in and get him, but decided against it. He didn’t want to scare him off, so Whitney took a deep breath and called out into the silence,“Frederick! Frederick! Please come out, it's dangerous out here!”  
Silence.  
“I...Look, I know you don’t trust me… I get it. I wouldn't trust me either to be honest. Last night, you were right. If we’re going to be living out here, we’re going to have to be honest with each other and I wasn’t being truthful to you. I was purposefully being vague…. I thought if you knew about my curse and who I was before then you’d get scared and run away from me… I didn’t want to be alone again… But now, I see that, we’re not that different. A long time ago, I used to be well off and well taken care of. I had everything I could ever want and more…. All at my fingertips…. I took what I wanted, when I wanted, and if anyone got in my way….. Then I made them suffer…. This was something that my ex-fiance realized when she tried to tell me that she loved another and I ended up using her to lure her lover into a trap….. So I could curse him… Ha Ha…. How ironic, I ended up failing and when I went back home, I was cursed to change into a weretiger every full moon. So my family chased me out and…. The first few months, I remember feeling horrible, angry, and scared….Like you…... I was completely disgusted with myself both inside and out….. I’ve been where you are...scared… frustrated…. Suspicious of everyone around you. You don’t know what to do…..where to go….. And worst of all, you’re all alone. I know I was. But you don’t have to be, Frederick. If you want, maybe….. I could help you manage your curse. I know it's not the same as mine, but I might be able to help out with what I can….. That is….. if you want to.”  
The forest was quiet for a moment; The song of birds was the only sound to be heard. Whitney starts to turn and walk away, when he hears a rustling behind him. He turns to see the red bound boy rise from the thick bushes; His harsh emerald eyes peered into his being, investigating every fiber of his soul with hopeful caution.  
“You can?” Frederick asked  
Whitney nodded as the boy made his way towards the large man, his raw feet snapping twigs with every step.  
\----------------------------------  
Frederick crouches by the rocky river bed, washing away the dirt and pebbles from his skin. In his haste, he had left the skin on the ground and it got dirty very quickly. It was now also infested with ants much to his annoyance. Whitney sat by him, listening to his story of how it all started with a weird aching and how it escalated into almost being publicly executed.  
“So this isn’t a curse? It’s a family trait?” Whitney asked. Frederick nodded as he picked off tiny red ants from the folds of his flesh.  
“My mother said that it’s from her side of the family. At first I thought that she was talking crazy, but it’s hard not to believe the ravings of a drunk when you’re standing in the middle of a crowd of terrified people looking at your own insides with your skin bundle up like a bed sheet in your brother’s arms.”  
Whitey stared at the boy, his grey eyes flashed with concern.  
“O-kay…. Do you know anything else?”  
“Well, she also said that grandma only fed when she had to and she only drank enough blood to satisfy her, so the…. person would still be alive. But so far I’ve only drank animal blood.”  
“Well, that’s a start. A word of advice, stick with animal blood. Things might get bad if you get a taste for human blood, especially if you’re still getting used to the cravings.”  
Frederick felt himself shrink as heat traveled to his cheeks.  
“I’m sorry, I don’t know what came over me! I was just so hungry!”  
“Did you have anything before we met?”  
“I had a rat the night I escaped.”  
Whitney’s eyes widened a bit.  
“That's all you had? No wonder you went crazy last night, you were practically starving.”  
Frederick curled up even more as he avoided the man’s gaze; If his skin was on it would have been redder than a beet. Whitney noticed his discomfort and extended a hand to him but he pulled it back at the last second. Instead saying,  
“Hey, I was like that the first time I changed too. One time in one kingdom I visited, my cravings came up while I was walking around the town. I was passing by a dog and I caught a whiff of its blood…. it smelled like my favorite food…. Chicken with mushroom sauce….. Long story short, I ended up having to leave because people started getting suspicious about the increase of dead strays.” Frederick let loose a small chortle. *Oh, God…. Why am I laughing at this?*  
“Later on, I learned that small animals are an appetizer that can hold you over for a short time and larger animals can usually fill you up with one body. But smaller animals are better for you if you want to be discreet.”  
Frederick had to bite on his cheek to keep from laughing again. He didn’t know why he wanted to. *We are literally talking about how to kill animals and drain them of their blood to keep ourselves from murdering people. How is this funny? Have I gone absolutely insane?* Before he could further question his mental stability, Whitney asked,  
“Do you know anything else? Like what powers you have?”  
“Oh, I can heal really fast, I’m really strong… sometimes. Oh, and I can also see in the dark.” he replied.  
“Your abilities depend on how much blood you consume. When you go without blood, you’ll start to feel sick and your strength and powers will weaken as a result. If you continue to fast from blood, your hunger for it will overtake all of your senses and drive you to feed until you lose all sense of yourself.” Whitney said in a dark tone.  
Frederick ogled at him with wide fear filled eyes, the muscles on his face turning pale red.  
“I’ll have to keep in mind that you need more raw meat when I cook tonight.” Whitney said, oblivious to the tension.  
The two were quiet once again, which gave Frederick enough time to brew up a whole new list of horrible worries and outcomes. *SHIT SHIT SHIT SHIT SHIT SHIT SHIT! Is he joking? Please be joking…. Who am I kidding, does this look like the kind of guy that tells jokes!? Oh, no….. This can’t be real….. I could lose myself if I’m not careful…. But what if it's happening already? I already almost ate Whitney…. I couldn't control myself…..I almost killed him….. I could have killed him…. Is that how I’m going to see people from now on? As meals?* Whitney glanced over to the boy. His golden hair shimmering in the sun contrasted sharply with the stark white bone of his exposed skull. His wide shadowed emerald eyes were downcast and turned away; His nose tickled at a familiar frenzied ink laced scent.  
“So that's all you know?” Whitney asked.  
Frederick shook himself from his thoughts as he responded, “Like I said the information on boo hags is sparse. I don’t think people know a lot about them.”  
“Alright, then let’s get started then.” Whitney says as he stands up and walks away from the bank. Frederick looks up at him like he just grew a second head. “What!?”  
“We’re going to hunt, we’ll need to get something for lunch anyway.”  
“How is that suppose to help me?”  
“Look, Frederick, If you want to know more about yourself we have to do something that triggers your instincts. It's how I got to learn about my curse and we have to start somewhere. Besides, you need to learn this anyway If you’re going to live out here.” Whitney replied as he walked over to the tree line. He stopped and looked over to the teen, his sharp eyes asking him to follow him. Frederick starts wringing out the water from his skin.  
*He’s got a point and I don’t have any better ideas.*  
“Ok, just give me a sec.” Once he finished, he took his damp flesh over to his tent and hung it up to dry on one of the poles. It flapped in the wind like a ghoulish flag as he followed the cloaked man into the woods.  
\----------------------------------------------------  
The two males travel deep into the woods with Whitney leading the way and Frederick bringing up the rear. The chrome haired man stops walking and begins unbuttoning his cloak. “Ok, what was your method last night?” He asked  
“Huh?”  
“Your style. Do you like to chase or do you rely on stealth? Claws first or teeth?”  
The boy stared dumbfounded. “I understood nothing of what you just said.”  
Whitney hung his hood on a low hanging branch as he scanned the young man with inquisitive eyes.  
“Let’s…. start with something easy. Now, I want you to smell the air.”  
“Uhhh…. Why?”  
“Just do it.”  
Frederick obeyed and sniffed the air a few times, not really understanding the purpose of this odd exercise. Whitney observed him with crossed arms.“Try closing your eyes. And really try to focus on one smell.” he said.  
Frederick did just that. While he could smell things like fallen leaves slowly boiling in the heat and hearty aroma of earth, he realized that wasn’t all. Like last night, his senses felt more in tune, more heightened. He could once again smell the sweet exotic aroma of Whitney, but other scents filled his nose that came from all directions. He could smell the river far behind them, along with a fox that was drinking at its edge. About a few meters in front of them, he could smell a larger animal; Its gentle footfalls lightly crunched on the leafy ground.  
What was that?  
Frederick instinctively started to follow it, keeping his steps as quiet as possible; His bare feet dancing around small twigs and decaying leaves. When he reached the source of the smell, he saw that it was a deer. It was grazing about in a patch of grass, happily chowing down on the green blades. It’s massive ivory antlers curled skyward; Their heavy weight showed itself through the taunt muscles bulging from the creature's neck. Whitney came up behind him just as quietly, eyes glinting with satisfaction. “Impressive. You picked up on that pretty quickly. Now lets see what you got.” he whispered.  
“What do you mean?”  
“Well, if we’re going to eat tonight, you’re going to have to catch it.”  
“I…..uhhhh…Umm” Frederick wrinkles his brow in concentration, trying to come up with a way.  
After a few moments, Whitney says, “You’re thinking about it too much. Just go with your gut.” Frederick stared at him, his green eyes wide and anxious. “Go with my gut? I don’t know what to do! I’ve never done anything like this before, I’ll just mess it up!” he whispered, panic tinting his voice. Whitney confronted his uncertain gaze with a determined stare as he whispered in a calm yet stern voice,“Frederick, you did this by yourself last night, I know you can do this. Just trust yourself.”  
Frederick took a few deep breaths to ease himself.  
*He’s right… if I can do it once, I can do it again.*  
Frederick looked back to the deer and focused on it. The strong creature dipped its head once again to eat, its long antlers pointed away from the sky and to the front. Its strong scent curled around the young man in an embrace similar to walking into a bakery.  
And just like that, it was clear.  
His left foot moved back as he crouched down to a mid lunge. All of his anxiety and uncertainty washed off of him like a summer shower. His ears tuned in to the heart beat of the deer; A slow and gentle measure filled his ears; A sound that told him that the deer was content and totally oblivious to their presence.  
*Perfect.*  
His fingers curled in and then he pounced high into the air; a sharp and quick piercing tore at his fingertips as razor sharp bones shot out into fearsome claws. He was about to tear right into the neck of the deer, when the unexpected happened. The deer lifted its head just as Frederick was coming down, catching the boy in its curved antlers.  
*Whaaaaaaa!?*  
The deer, naturally, swung its large head over to the left with a startled keen. Frederick flew off the antlers with a surprised yelp of his own and landed hard against a thick tree trunk back first. Frederick cried out as he landed on the ground. The deer bounded out of the area, leaving the teen groaning in pain. Whitney stepped out of his hiding place and stooped down over the kid. “Are you alright? Is anything broken?” Frederick picked up his head. “I don’t think so. I’m sorry I let our lunch get away, I told you I wouldn’t be any good at this.” Whitney looked off to where the deer ran off. “Well for the record, Deers are pretty hard to catch since they’re so quick and have those antlers, so you did good for your first try. You’ll get better the more times you do it.” Whitney extended a hand to Frederick,  
“Can you get up ok?”  
Frederick sat up on his own with a moan, rubbing his sore back and checking himself for any other injuries. “Nothing seems to be broken and even though it hurt landing into the tree, It went away pretty fast.” He said.  
“That’s great. Come on, Lets go.” Whitney said as he started to dart away. Frederick looked at him, his lime hued eyes wide in disbelief. “I have to do that again?”  
“Of course. You have to practice if you want to get good. You make some mistakes, learn from them, and then you improve. Plus we still need food for tonight.” Frederick sighed deeply as he got to his feet.  
*This is going to be a long day.*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy late Halloween! I wanted to post the new chapter on Halloween but life got in the way. I hope I did a good job with this in terms of establishing a relationship between Whitney and Frederick. Ever since seeing Whitney, I really wanted to see their interaction develop into a friendship. So I'm really excited to get into all the good fluff and angst between the two in later chapters. Tiny little secret: If Lance and Blaine met Whitney in the later chapters, there is a good chance they might get jealous. HeHeHeHe.  
> And don't worry, I've got some good interactions planned between Gwen and Frederick. Stay tuned!


	9. Update Status

Hello, everyone! I just wanted to announce that since Christmas is coming up, I'll be having more free time to work on the story!  
Also I wanted to ask a random and silly question for all you fans:  
What song just perfectly describes a character and would be their favorite?  
Here's a quick list of my choices:  
Frederick: either Staind's for you or Dollhouse by Melanie Martinez  
Lorena: I'll make a man out of you from Mulan  
Maria: Never Enough from The Greatest Showman  
(I can also see her getting into in this moment and other female metal singers, especially after what happened with her dreams being crushed by her dad.)  
Gwen: The Candyman Can  
Jamie: Goodship Lollipop  
Prez Calpernia: In this moment's Fighter(obviously)  
But that's just off the top of my head.  
What songs do you think describe your favorite characters?  
I'd love to hear them! Also the new chapter will be up in a short while, so I'll see you then!

And thank you for reading!


	10. Filler: Music and Nightmares

Ch.10(Filler Chapter)

Whitney and Frederick sat on two small logs across from each other eating their breakfast of speared deer meat and ginger tea. While the day around the two was bright, sunny, and serene, the atmosphere between them was heavy and awkward. All throughout their meal, Whitney would take a few concerned glances at the teenage boy.

He looked terrible.

His eyes were bleary and red, sporting huge bruised bags under them, giving him the appearance of an elderly racoon. His blond hair was now starting to get long and shaggy; The hay colored locks grew into a spiky, matted mess that almost reached his shoulders and hung in his eyes, nearly covering his face. Frederick chomped his food with all the zeal of a statue and seemed almost lost in his own world. His dull green eyes stared off into the under brush, focused on somewhere seemingly far away from here.

(Oh no.... I have to say something.)

After a month of living together, Frederick began to have horrible nightmares that usually had him whimpering and fitful tossing and turning; Whitney only knew about them because of his sharp hearing. He didn't think too much of it at first, since the nightmares only lasted about 5 minutes and he seemed fine during the day. But in the last few weeks, Frederick started showing signs of sleep deprivation; During the day, his movements were sluggish, he was constantly yawning, and he would space out randomly. Whitney tried to ask him about it but Frederick told him he was fine.

But last night further cemented his worries.

Whitney was awaken from his slumber by a loud scream. He jumped onto his hands and tips of his toes with his back arched and his claws piercing the soil, scanning his surroundings. He looked over to the tree house and saw the canvas rustling as the teen inside flailed around violently; His shrieks reaching a feverish fear filled pitch that made his skin break out in goosebumps. In the span of 3 seconds, Whitney rushed over and climbed up the tree to Frederick's side.

"Hey! Frederick, wake up! You're ok! Wake up!" Whitney yelled out, shaking the boy's shoulder. Frederick's eyes flew open when he felt someone shaking him. With lightning fast precision, he swung out his fist to the offender like a cannon. Whitney gasped as he felt the hit land in a very sensitive area. The night ended with Whitney hobbling down to the ground, holding his crotch and quietly screaming at every wrong move.

Now here they were eating awkwardly, both parties at a complete loss on how to start a conversation in a non-embarrassing way. Whitney decided to make the first move.

"Did you have any trouble going back to sleep?" Frederick snapped his attention to him, seemingly just remembering where he was. His pale face went red as he bowed his head and fiddled with his plate. "I'm really sorry, Whitney. I didn't mean to hit you like that... I just felt someone shaking me and I didn't know it was you and-" His words rushed out like a verbal river, his face getting redder and redder. Whitney held up his hands and said, "Hey, Hey. Its ok. It was a really dumb idea to wake you up like that when you were obviously freaked out enough already. But... Are you really ok? You've been having these nightmares for about a month now... And you don't look like you've been sleeping well lately."

Frederick smiled wearily and scratched the back of his head. "Its nothing really. I'm just not used to sleeping out in the woods yet, that's all." Whitney's grey eyes softened as he stood up.

"Frederick, It might help to-" Whitney paused as Frederick quickly gathered their makeshift plates, "No, no. Everything's fine. It's so silly. I don't even remember what my dream was. You just relax and I'll just wash our dishes before we sent out. Ok? Good! See ya."

And then he quickly walked toward the river and then speed walked further down stream, leaving Whitney standing by himself with the smoky remnants of the fire. He frowned as he rubbed his temples. (This is bad.... Well, I can't force him to talk if he doesn't want to, but... I'll just have to wait. He'll talk when he's ready.)

\----------------------------------------------

Then rest of day went normally. Frederick seemed to be in a better mood but Whitney could still tell that the lack of sleep was taking its toll on him. Throughout the day, he would catch Frederick staring out listlessly at nothing and during the late afternoon while they were crouched behind a bush awaiting for their next meal to approach, Frederick took a cat nap right beside him. When night came, Frederick spoke animatedly about his new projects for traps and improvements to his tree house. Whitney yawned as he got up and put out the fire. "I'm going to turn in." Whitney said. When he gazed at Frederick's eyes, he could have sworn he saw a flint of fear pass through those tired green eyes. But Frederick just smiled and replied, "Ok. Guess I'll turn in too. Good night, Whitney." While it may have been dark, Whitney could see the teen fidgeting uneasily.

"Night, Frederick."

\--------------------------------------------------------

Sometime in the night, Whitney's ears twitched at an odd sound. He opened his eyes and lifted his head up to look for the source. Now that he was more awake, it sounded like someone was crying. Whitney turned his gaze to the tree and sure enough his sharp nose caught the smell of salty water coming from the tree house. He got up and made his way towards the tree. When he stood under it, he called out, "Frederick. Are you ok?"

A series of sniffles was the only answer he got.

"Hey, talk to me. Are you hurt? Should I come up?"

"N-n-no. I'm fine." Frederick replied in a shaky stutter.

"Did you have another nightmare? Because it might make you feel better if you talked about it."

"It's nothing. I'm ok."

"Frederick, its not nothing and you're obviously not ok. Just tell me whats wrong."

"Nothings wrong.... Please, just-"

"Stop lying. Frederick, those nightmares aren't going to go away if you ignore them. I just need you to tell me whats going on so I can help you.

"I DON'T KNOW, ALRIGHT!"

Whitney was silent for a minute. "What do you mean?"

"I.... keep dreaming about the hands.... All around me.... Scratching, pulling and yanking me around... like they're trying to pull me apart. But last night.... It felt like they were pulling me somewhere... and every time I struggle, they just squeeze tighter and pull harder.... I don't know why I'm crying about this... It's just some stupid shitty dream...."

Whitney frowned. "Hey, Its not stupid. Why would you say that?"

"Because I'm waking you up at ungodly hours with my bullshit... I'm sorry.... I'll try to get it under control."

Whitney winced as his heart twisted painfully. "Don't apologize. You didn't do anything wrong. You're just having nightmares and that's normal, especially after what you've been through."

There is quiet for a moment.

"...You're not upset? But I woke you up and-"

"Now why would I be... Look, just let me come up."

"..... Ok."

Whitney climbed into the tree house. When he got to the platform, he saw Frederick curled beneath the slanted canvas tent. A thin blanket was wrapped around him, concealing the majority of his body except the hair and tips of his toes; The sight reminded Whitney of a butterfly beginning to crawl out of its cocoon. He crawled over to the blonde and sat in front of him. His hand brushed against Frederick's skin, which laid near the edge of the platform. "Have you've been just waking up at night and not sleeping?"

"Sometimes..... If I'm too wound up." Frederick's reply was muffled by the sheet.

"Do you want some tea? It'll help you relax."

Frederick shook his head, violently; His red sinewy face peeked out from the blanket.

"N-No! Please!... I don't want to sleep.... Not now.... I... If I go back in... to those hands...I-" His words came out in in quick stutterings, accompanied by rapid breaths; As if his words ran several miles to get to his mouth.

"Hey, Hey. Its ok. You don't have to go back to sleep. I'm not gonna force you." Whitney whispered, scooting closer to the teen.

Frederick let out a sigh of ease as he mumbled the names of herbs and their effects under his breath. Whitney sat back and ran his hands through his hair. (What do I do? I've never dealt with anything like this. I mean I've seen how the nurses back at the monastery handle trauma patients but he won't even let me touch him. And I've never been the type of person to give comfort. I mean I try but most people freak out because of my curse. Which probably explains why they try to keep me out of the trauma ward.) Whitney squeezed the bridge of his nose and looked down.

(I'm really in over my head.)

"Whitney?"

The man looked up to the owner of the small voice, slightly startled. The teen's red hued muscles dulled in comparison to his green eyes; An otherworldly glow pulsed from within the vibrant orbs that stared right at him. The big and inquiring eyes flickered with childlike curiosity.

"Uh, yes?" Whitney replied.

There was a short pause as Frederick's eyes broke his gaze.

"Do you.... know any songs?"

Whitney let out a small nervous breathy chuckle he didn't realize he had been holding, "I'm a really bad singer. But I can... wait here." Whitney climbed down the tree and Frederick watched as he went over to his pack and pulled out something long. When he climbed back up, he could see that Whitney held a crudely carved wooden flute.

"You can play the flute? I though your parents were all about "no frivolous pass times."

"They are. They pushed us pretty hard to be the best at everything including music. So they made us practice scales and classical pieces daily. They thought music was a good way to enforce discipline and hone our skills in precision. Needless to say, I hated having to play perfect renditions of musical pieces I didn't even like and thus hated music in general. Then when I was chased out of the castle, I found myself actually yearning to play something so I made this flute in my spare time in the monastery. The moment I played a few notes, I actually felt better about myself for the first time in months. I can't quite explain it but when I have my down days, I just play. So I hope it can help." Frederick's eyes soften with sympathy as he loosed his hold on his body.

"Do you want something specific?" Whitney asked, getting his fingers ready.

"No... I'm fine with anything." Frederick replied.

Whitney put the flute to his lips and blew out a chorus of soft notes. The deep lone harmonies flowed out into the air and swirled around Frederick like a lyrical breeze. The soft wispy notes flowed into his ears and seemed to flow into every pore of his being; The melody settling over his tense muscles and eased them into a lax state. Frederick let out a small yawn as his eyes began to droop and his heartbeat slowed.

Whitney finished up the piece with a cadence of light notes. "How was it.... Frederick?"

The teen in question answered with a loud snore as his head fell forward and his body followed. Whitney caught the boy before he fell to the hard wooden floor. He froze as he waited for Frederick to wake up at his touch but the boy did not stir. Whitney breathed a sigh of relief as he gently placed his head down and pulled the small sheet over him.

(Whew, thank God that's over.... Poor kid must be exhausted.)

He observed the teen's sleeping body for a few moments, waiting to see any tell tale signs of unrest. Frederick's red face remained the picture of peace as he slept; The sight bringing a relived smile to Whitney's face. The man was about to climb down when he took one last look at the resting rogue prince. (I should.... Probably stay. Just in case) So the man propped his back against the trunk of the tree and drifted off to the sound of the soft babbling of the stream and the teen's snoring.

A little short moment that I wanted to write while I work out the next chapter of the main story. As you can tell, I really wanted to write out a chapter with some angst sprinkled with a hint of fluffy and comfort between Frederick and Whitney. I needed a free chapter where I could stretch my legs creatively before getting back to my main story. Also I've been wondering how you guys feel about the friendship between Frederick and Whitney. While the canon story is so far just dipping its toes into it, my mind is just firing with all the possible interactions. When it comes to interactions outside of their families, both Whitney and Frederick have little to no other relations outside of their families members thus making their social growth a little stunted; As Frederick exhibits with his nervous and withdrawn behavior and Whitney's blunt way of communication and his obliviousness to certain social ques. So for me, it only seemed natural for these two socially challenged dudes to meet and start a bomb friendship. But what are you thoughts? Comment below your thoughts on this matter and maybe even make some predictions on who will be friends with Frederick, maybe other members of the CpC? This week's chapter showed that is definitely possible.

Good Night!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little short moment that I wanted to write while I work out the next chapter of the main story. As you can tell, I really wanted to write out a chapter with some angst sprinkled with a hint of fluffy and comfort between Frederick and Whitney. I needed a free chapter where I could stretch my legs creatively before getting back to my main story. Also I've been wondering how you guys feel about the friendship between Frederick and Whitney. While the canon story is so far just dipping its toes into it, my mind is just firing with all the possible interactions. When it comes to interactions outside of their families, both Whitney and Frederick have little to no other relations outside of their families members thus making their social growth a little stunted; As Frederick exhibits with his nervous and withdrawn behavior and Whitney's blunt way of communication and his obliviousness to certain social ques. So for me, it only seemed natural for these two socially challenged dudes to meet and start a bomb friendship. But what are you thoughts? Comment below your thoughts on this matter and maybe even make some predictions on who will be friends with Frederick, maybe other members of the CpC? This week's chapter showed that is definitely possible.
> 
> Good Night!


	11. Ch.10

Ch.9

As the heat of dawn warmed his sore body, Frederick groaned and slowly lifted himself to a sitting position. He stretched his hands far above his head, moaning in relief as his body snapped back into place with a symphony of cracks. For the past few days, Whitney's hunting lessons were slowly beating his body into a bruised, weary, knotted mess. It was hard but he was learning a lot of really useful information and skills; Such as how to claw your preys legs so they'll be unable to run, all the major arteries in the neck, using your prey's fear as a weapon against them as you led them into a trap, and how to properly run. Frederick's favorite lesson so far was learning about the various traps used in hunting. He enjoyed scanning his surroundings and mentally constructing new and different mechanisms with what was in front of him. Then he saw the tent flap come up and Whitney pop his head through it.

"Oh, good morning. I hope you slept well. Come out and eat, we have more work to do." Whitney said and promptly drew back. The boy crawled out of his tent, his bones creaking with every step. He groaned as he stood up and a wave of tinging aches inflamed his leg muscles. Whitney, who was sitting by the fire with two plates of raw meat and eggs, motioned to a steaming cup on the bench. "I figured you would still be sore from yesterday, so I made a blend that should ease some of the aches." Frederick nodded and mumbled out a thank you as he slumped down onto the log and gulped down the tea, ignoring the burn caused by the still steaming liquid. He scarfed down his breakfast with apathetic abandon; His grass hued eyes half closed with stubborn exhaustion, fighting the urge to fall back asleep. Whitney sat across and watched him, slightly fascinated by how quickly the ex-prince abandoned his proper etiquette. He waited until they both finished their meals before saying, "We need to run a few errands." Frederick groaned. "Please tell me it involves sitting down and waiting. I feel like an old man." Whitney reached into his pack and tossed him a second dark black cloak.

"No. We're going into the village."

Frederick's squinty green eyes grew to the size of serving plates as he leapt from his seat. "WHAT!? ARE YOU CRAZY!? I CAN'T GO TO THE VILLAGE! THE WHOLE KINGDOM IS OUT LOOKING FOR ME!" Frederick shouted. Whitney winced as he covered his left ear. "Why the

yelling? I'm literally right in front of you and I've already taken care of that issue. All you have to do is keep that cloak on, try not to draw any attention to yourself, and we won't have any problems." Whitney replied as he got up from his seat and started to stomp out the embers of their fire. Frederick stared at Whitney with his mouth slightly agape, absolutely stupefied. *Does he not see how that is a terrible plan?*

"You do know that the cloaks are just going to make us stand out even more? Who isn't going to be ogling at two sketchy-as-fuck dudes, one the size of a bear and the other a fugitive, and not lose their shit?" Frederick replied with cock eyed gaze. Whitney's stoic expression slipped for a brief moment; A hint of pink tinted his cheeks as he became flustered but he composed himself just as quickly. "But… We…. Ok, fine. Your right, that's a problem, but we do need to get supplies from town. They have materials there that we can't get here."

"Really? Like what?" Frederick sarcasm edging his tone. Whitney looked down. "Well, shoes for a start." Frederick's gaze went to his feet. They were black with caked on dirt and spotted with leaves. Beneath the layer of earth, his soles were thick with rough calluses.

Now it was Frederick's turn to blush. "Ok, good point. But I can wait here and hold down the fort while you go."

"Absolutely not. What if a monster attacks the camp? You have no idea how to defend yourself if that were to happen."

"I'll just use what you taught me."

Whitney's razor eyes glinted darkly as he replied,

"That's different. Those were normal everyday creatures. Cryptids… are an entirely different matter... one wrong move…. One wasted moment…. And you'll be dead on your feet."

A cold chill traveled through his nerves and prickled his skin; Frederick could feel in his bones that Whitney was right, so he took the cloak from his seat.

"What do we need?" he asked.

Whitney started walking towards the tree line as he said, "Well, we need to get some medical supplies, some limes, rope, a few vegetables, some tarp-" The rest of Whitney's words faded out as Frederick numbly walked toward the river bank, slipping on his cloak as he did. He felt the bottom hem line drag on the ground. When he got to the edge, he stared at his reflection in the water.

I feel like a toddler trying on his dad's 's no way that just covering my face is going to work. They'll know it's me in a second. And when they do… Frederick involuntarily squeezed the fabric of his cloak as he thought back to the screams of fear and anger; the clawing, grabbing and beating of multiple hands that descended on him like massive waves beating against a rocky cliff. He trembled as his mind raced with grim possibilities. I can't let that happen….. It can't happen…. Not again…. What if I don't make it this time? What if Whitney gets killed trying to save me?….. What if-

"Hey, kid."

He turned to his left to see Whitney, eyes glowing with determination. "I already made a promise to you that I'm not going to let anyone hurt you. When we go into that village, no matter what happens, we'll be ok." Frederick took in a few deep breaths as he let Whitney's words settle into his bones. He noticed, after spending a few days with Whitney, that his words carried a certain warmth to them. For years, his father always chastised and mocked him when he would have moments of nervousness or show any of his true feelings. So he tried to have his moments when he was alone and would filter his emotions when he was with his family. But Whitney met them with calm understanding and even encouragement when he found himself beating himself up over a mistake. He felt like…. It was okay to be himself around him. "Ok, just give me a sec." Frederick walked over to the fire pit and picked up a handful of soot. He began to rub the black powder into his hair as Whitney stared at him, quizzically. When his bright blonde hair turned a moonless black, he smudged some on his face for good measure. When he was done, he turned back to Whitney, mustering up all the determination and courage he had, "I'm ready."

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Gwen entered the kitchen and picked up the apron from the hook set by the door, still in the plain black dress from this morning's service. She brought out flour, eggs, butter, and sugar from the pantry and began her task of making cinnamon rolls. She knew it was an odd thing to do, especially after a funeral, but she always felt better doing tasks for others and baking was a hobby that she adored. She loved the smiles it brought to her family's faces anytime she made something tasty. So anytime she felt sad or stressed out, she found herself baking. But as she stirred the ingredients, she couldn't help but feel that something was amiss. Gwendolyn knew that all families were different and thus showed affection differently and interacted with one another uniquely.

But when she was at the service something felt….. Unnatural.

The ceremony took place in the town chapel and Gwen and her family took their seats in the front pews, in the aisle across from the Plaid family. As the priest spoke about death and new beginnings, she glanced over to the Plaid family and knew that something was not right.

Lance looked absolutely devastated. His black and white plaid clothes, which were the dress code for the funeral, were wrinkled and messy; She could see dark stains on the collar and the sleeves, strong evidence of horrible sobbing. His eyes were bleary, red, and puffy; Gwen felt her heart tighten as she imagined him crying all night. His swollen red eyes contrasted sharply with his newly blanched pallor and his entire body looked like a crumpled up piece of wet paper, soggy and falling to pieces. Blaine looked a bit more put together. His suit and face were clean and immaculate as always but when Gwen peered more closely, she could see that he was tightly clenching his knees, his jaw was locked, and his eyes were shimmering with tears that for some odd reason he was refusing to let fall. To Gwen, these looked like normal faces you see at a loved ones funeral.

But the King and Queen's demeanor turned her heart to ice.

The Queen's tears and her eulogy seemed rehearsed and artificial. In fact when she sat back down, Gwen could see that she slipped a small onion from her long sleeves into her dress pocket.

King Leland stuck out the most.

Throughout his speech, his face was hard and rigid. When he started talking about Frederick's early childhood, Gwen detected not an ounce of warmth or sadness on his face. It seemed cold and impersonal like he was more of a stranger then a father to Frederick. The only time he showed emotion was when he started talking about his anti-cryptid squad and the war on monsters and witches.

He didn't seem to care at all.

Gwen took the soft batter from the bowl and started to knead it on the floured counter top. No matter how you look at it, the King and Queen's actions were weird. What kind of parents don't even cry or show even a little bit of sadness at their own son's funeral? Even if he was a monster that replaced

your real son, you would still be a mess. Frederick's words about artificial adoration came to her. But they couldn't be true, could it? She was talking to the monster. But it didn't feel like it wanted to harm her and it had a good opportunity to do so. They were all alone in the library; No one had even come near it. And the "monster's" words…. They made sense now. Gwen began to pound the dough, frowning and trying to wrap her head around it all. It was so much to figure out and so much to process. Gwen didn't even see what happened at the ball. All she knew was that people started screaming and running in fear all of a sudden. She was able to get out thanks to the artist, Leopold, who was talking to her at the party about how beautiful she looked and led her out safely amongst the chaos. But other than that, she didn't see anything of what happened very clearly. But she couldn't help but feel a pit of dread form in her stomach when she thought of the king's behavior. Something was not right. It felt like she was looking at a puzzle with several missing pieces and the whole world was trying to tell her that it was complete.

"Gwenie?"

Gwen jumped as she turned to face Jamie, who was peeking in from behind the door; His sparkling violet eyes glimmered with warm concern.. "We wanted to check up on you since it was your first time at a funeral. Are you doing alright?"he asked as he entered the kitchen followed by their other two sisters. Gwen nervously wiped her hands on her apron while stuttering, "Uhh.. I'm sorry…. I just started to…. bake to take my mind off…. Oh, wait that sounds terrible…" Maria, now in her normal blue attire, says, "No, no. You don't have to apologize, Gwen. It's healthy to take your mind off of troubles by doing the things you love." Lorena chimed in, "Yeah. That way you can confront your problems with a clear head. And to be honest, we would have been more worried if you weren't stress baking." Gwen smiled softly. "Thanks, guys. I didn't mean to make you worry." Jamie took Gwen's hand into his own; His slender fingers wrapping around her own. "Gwenie, you don't have to pretend to be fine around us. Know that, we will always be open to listen to your feelings. It's no trouble for us." Lorena pulled Gwen into a hug, "If we weren't there for our little sister, then what kinda siblings would we be?" she said. Maria and Jamie joined in on the hug. Gwen smiled as she felt the warmth of her siblings, tearing up slightly at their tender sweetness. "Actually, I do have something to talk about with you. Just give me about 10 minutes." Jamie nodded. "Alright, come when you're ready. We'll be around." When they left the kitchen, she took the dough and started to mold them into tasteful twists.

Whitney peeked out from a grove of thin birch trees, looking at the town several meters across from them. A shadowed and small alleyway faced the woods; It would serve as the most perfect discreet entrance. From where he stood, dozens of people passed by. (A little busy today. But this might work in our favor. It'll be easier to blend in and nobody will bother us.)

"Ok, This is perfect. Seems like the whole town has an event going on. So that means everyone will be too distracted and no one will even give us a second look. Sound good?" Whitney said as he turned to Frederick. The teen stood behind him; For a second the elder man had almost mistaken him for someone else when he saw coal black hair instead of his sunflower yellow hair. Frederick stared at the town ahead of him with wide eyes; His green pupils had shrunk to marble size. His arms were crossed tightly over his chest as he shook so hard, Whitney thought he was going to shatter like a mirror. His skin was blanched to almost a sheet white tone as he pursed his lips together into a tight

line; His nose flared as he inhales and exhales in a jerky and rapid pattern that made Whitney concerned.

"Hey, are you alright? You don't look good." Whitney asked.

"Can you throw up all your vital organs? Cause I think I might." Frederick replied.

Whitney's eyes widen in surprise as he extends his hands toward Frederick but they stop and sort of just awkwardly move around. "Oh! Uhhh… Oh, boy… Ok, just sit down for a sec and take some deep breaths." Frederick sat down on the ground and brought his knees to chest, taking in shaky breaths to calm his racing heart and somersaulting stomach. It's ok. I'm fine. I just have to get myself together. C'mon…. In. And Out. He closed his eyes. . In. Out. In. Out. In. Out. In. Out. In. Out.

"List all of the herbs and plants you know and their effects on the body."

"What?"

"Trust me. It'll help."

"Ok… Valerian is good for relieving tension, spasms, and insomnia. Ginger relieves nausea and vomiting. Strawberry leaves when steamed in tea, can ease nervousness and help with diarrhea. Buttercups are poisonous to eat when fresh and if you crush them between your hands, painful blisters will appear on your skin. Alliums or chives are used to stimulate appetite and aid digestion. Dewcup leaves are good for healing wounds and reducing inflammation when used as a compress….." Frederick continued listening off flora until he stopped shaking and his nerves slowed their constant firing. Whitney spoke up when he stopped smelling the fear laced ink smell. "Feeling better?" From the ground, Frederick met his companion's sterling eyes." Whitney, If even one person recognizes me out there, we'll both be killed. Do you understand that you'll be burned just by associating with me? How can you be so calm about that?" He asked. With a face as serene as a fall breeze, Whitney replied, "You're not a monster. At least not in the way they're thinking and if they find you out, I give you my word that I'll do everything in my power to keep you safe." Once again, Frederick felt a familiar warmth blossom in his chest; It wrapped around his trembling soul and released a flood of stillness that chased away his fears. He blinks his eyes several times to deter the slight welling of water from his eyes. *What? This feeling is back again…. I thought I only felt this way when Gwen.*

Whitney started to slowly stand up and Frederick followed suit. "Just stay close to me, keep your head down, and we should be fine." Frederick nodded as Whitney walked in the direction of the village. Frederick matched his stride with his and suddenly grabbed a handful of Whitney's cloak as

they entered the alleyway and walked into the main street. Both males felt relief as they noticed that a majority of the villagers were also wearing black cloaks; Some of them were black and grey plaid funeral cloaks, Frederick noted, only worn by the rich who could afford them. When they looked into the shop windows they saw simple signs written in beautiful cursive that said:

May Prince Frederick Rest In Peace.

The fugitive teen ogled the sign in shock as they passed the store. *Wow… they had a whole funeral just for me….. I didn't think that father or anyone would put this much effort into this... Are they really that broken up about it?* They passed by a group of women, who were speaking quite loudly, "How horrible. Can you imagine a monster taking the skin of someone you know and walking around in it like a child at a costume party. Brrrr…. Gives me chills thinking about it."

"Absolutely terrifying and disgustingly cruel. Attacking the fragile one in the family and pretending to be him. It was probably dissatisfied with Prince Frederick's sickly skin and wanted to try its luck at getting a better one. Maybe from one of the other brothers!

"That's sick!"

"I know and the scary thing is no one knows when the monster came. For all we know he was there for years."

"Really!? I knew there was something off with that boy. He always seemed to be lurking around and trying to hide. His brothers are so approachable and nice. He just seemed so….. Off. He never smiled at the functions, he stuck to the shadows like a ghoul, and just didn't interact with anyone. He must have really hated humans."

"Yes. He hardly talked to anyone even in school. I heard that he had no friends when he went to the academy, what kind of person doesn't at least make one friend? I also heard from the academy that while he was there a few of the boys went missing.

"Gasp* You don't think…."

"Perhaps… It's like I always say: Watch out for those quiet ones."

"My God, you're right!"

Frederick dashed pass the group quickly, surprising Whitney with a sudden pull that made him stumble a bit. His right hand gripped his cloak so tightly his knuckles turned white; A familiar spark spread its red hot embers on the walls of his chest.

*Of course, Why did I even bother…. You know what. Fuck it, doesn't matter. Not worth it.*

Whitney glanced at him, grey eyes alight with concern. "You ok?" he asked.

Frederick briskly nodded his head. "Yeah. Peachy." He replied with a grumble.

He glances over to his left in time to see a bookstore and stops in his tracks, eyes stuck on the shop window.

"What is it?" Whitney asked as he stood next to the teen.

Frederick is quiet for a moment, his attention fixated on the book in the center of the display. "That's… the new installment of Pen Warriors. It must have been released just today…. I had completely forgotten." Frederick replied in a soft voice. Whitney's expression softened. "Do you want to go inside for a quick look?" Frederick gave a small nod. Whitney looked over to the grocer stand to the left. "I think it would be best if you do that while I go get the food stuff. I'll be only a couple of feet from you, so if you need anything or get in any trouble, I'll be nearby. Ok?" Frederick nods numbly once again. Whitney walked towards the grocers building, leaving Frederick with his thoughts. Frederick goes over to the door of the bookstore but his hand stops centimeters away from the door handle. *Wait… You don't have any money, you idiot. You're not a prince anymore; No more getting the books you want by just forwarding the bill to the castle. Ha… I really am useless without my title and dad's money aren't I? I have no skills for living in town and I'm barely just learning how to survive in the enchanted forest. Hell, it's a miracle that I've survived this long…. All because of Whitney…. I'm really lucky…. Hang on, does Whitney have a way to pay for any of the supplies?* He gets his answer when he hears a loud yell and sees Whitney stumbling backwards out of the shop. The shop keeper, a middle aged, heavy set man with patchy black hair, points a shot gun at his moonlight hued friend. "Fuck off ya stripped bastard. I'm runnin' a business here, not a charity." the

man says in a loud voice. Whitney held out his hands in front of him. "Sir, please. I'm just asking if you can spare some of your vegetables. We'll take whatever you can give with no complaint."

The man sneered showing off his fecal hued teeth, colored by tobacco. "We?"

"Yes me and my… brother." Whitney said as he tilted his head towards Frederick. The man turned to him and glared at him with his beady black eyes; He had to turn his gaze to the ground as he felt the hateful stare bore into him. "Really, now?" The man said, his tone implying disbelief in the statement. Then he gave a cruel smirk as his voice turned menacingly playful and he lowered his gun and stepped so close to Whitney their noses nearly touched. "Well, then let me give you some advice." Suddenly the man spat a large glob of phlegm onto his face, "Get a job, you lazy rats!

Frederick gasps.

Whitney slowly wiped away the spit from his face, gaze focused on the man and observing him as he chuckled heartily. But one glance at the pale man's face caused the shop keep to stop his chortling. Frederick felt his skin burst into goosebumps as he sensed a small but detrimental shift in Whitney's demeanor. His bolt colored eyes harden even more; His stare drilled into the man with its burning cold glare like flesh submerged in near frozen water. The man backed away, his angry eyes glinting with a fear. For a moment, he felt like a deer moments before having its neck snapped by a razor toothed mountain lion. Frederick shook himself out of his shocked gawking and approached his friend's side. "Hey, lets go." He said as he started to tug Whitney away by his cloak, the latter giving in and following. The shop keeper, still spooked, put on a shaky smile and yelled in a trembling mocking tone. "Ye..Yeah! That's right, you…sunless...bitch! Listen to your boy toy! He knows his place." Frederick growled under his breath. "Fucking perverted dick." Whitney turned his gaze to him, now back to his usual stern self, said in hushed tones.

"Frederick! Watch your mouth!"

"Whaaat? But he is! All you did was ask him for some day old vegetables! He didn't have to be such a bitchaloid about it. I mean seriously, a simple no would have been good but noooo. He had to go the extra mile and be all "Hey, look at me! I'm a total douche canoe. Bow before my supreme dick aura and choke on it, peasants!"

Whitney had to bite his cheek to hold back a chuckle. "People like that shouldn't make you resort to that kind of talk. In fact, you shouldn't be swearing at all. Its vulgar, disgusting, and frankly, it doesn't suit you at all." Frederick rolled his eyes and scoffed, " Sorry to disappoint you then, according to a lot of people, a lot of the things I do don't "suit me", Mr. Tight Ass." Whitney let out a heavy sigh. "Look, I…."

"You there!"

The two turn around to see a man in his 50s dressed in a white frilled shirt, brown coat, and black dress trousers heading towards them. His eyes were firmly on Frederick, who turned away from the man's piercing stare. Whitney spoke up, "Can we help you, sir?" The man stopped a few feet away from the duo, tilting his head and trying to get a better look at Frederick. He pointed to him.

"Boy, Take off your hood." Frederick clutched his cloak tighter as Whitney replied,

"Why does he need to do that?"

"His eyes…. They remind me of someone I know but I can't quite recall. I just need to see his face for a moment." The man extends a hand to grab the hood but Whitney moves in between them. "I would rather you didn't. He doesn't like strangers."

"Balderdash. Let me have a quick look." The brown coated man replied as he tried to get around Whitney only to be blocked every time.

"Sir, please stop."

"Why are you making this so difficult. I demand that your friend removes his hood this instant!" Then the man faked a dash to the right, causing Whitney to leave Frederick open on the left, giving the man enough time to make a wild grab for his hood. Frederick nimbly dodged away from the man's grasp, feeling the rich man's fingertips graze the fabric just barely.

*Run*; A command brought about by a burst of deep seeded primal panic had enough persuasion and power to get him to dash away from the two men.

"Hey! Get back here, you little welp!" cries the man as he gives chase to him followed by Whitney. Frederick races through the street, not really gaining the speed he wanted due to the crowd of people. He found himself feeling claustrophobic as he tried to shimmy and evade through the shoulders and backs of people. *I've got to get away. I have to hide. I have to lose him.* He scanned the area around him and to his relief found a nice dark alley to his right. He bolts to it, hoping he could disappear there, but his heart sank with dismay as he saw a tall grey wall.

*NONONONONONO…. I'm trapped! What do I do?! I need to go back!*

That option was quickly taken out of the equation when the royal man and Whitney appeared at the entrance, blocking his only way out. The rich man's face is red from the sudden exertion and he was panting and gasping deeply. His eyes were bright with frustration and anger. "Young man... remove … your hood….. Immediately." He said in between breaths, sweat beading his brows.

Frederick, facing the wall with sweat soaking his palms, tightened his grip around his hood.

*OH, FUCKARONI! Ok… Ok… Don't panic… There might still be a way to defuse this whole situation….. This guy obviously remembers me, albeit vaguely….. Maybe I can convince him that a lot of people mistake me for Prince Frederick. Just calmly explain the confusion and we'll all have a laugh about it…. Who am I kidding, I'm not that slick…. Hell, the last time I tried to lie, I was caught in 5 seconds…. I'm a horrible liar….. Not like Blaine. He always knew how to bend and stretch his words in such a way, you could call it an art form….. And his looks helped a lot in that department too. Anytime some crazed female fan of his would ask for a date, all he had to do was bat his rustic red eyes, give that perfect smile of his, and boom the girl was sold on any excuse he went with. If there was ever a perfect time to have that skill it would be now... Why did you run away, you spineless idiot!*

"Turn around!" commanded the man. Frederick took a deep breath as he turned to face the man; His oversized hood shadowed most of his face.

*I have a disguise. I could have just played it cool earlier and done what he wanted. Then if he thought I looked familiar, I could have given him the whole "Oh, I get that a lot." song and dance. But no, I had to run away like the suspicious twat I am. Stupid… Stupid…... Blaine wouldn't have lost his composure like that. He would have laughed it off and humored the man. He would have flashed him that charming smile and everything would be fucking great*

"Now, let me see your face." the man said.

Frederick slowly pulled back his hood; Every muscle in his body was taunt, tight, and ready for the absolute worst possible outcome. He met the man's eyes, which grew to the size of dinner plates and his jaw dropped open.

*Well, Here comes the bullshit.*

The man frantically scrambled into a messy bow. "Your Highness! I'm so sorry! Please forgive me! I didn't know it was you."

*HUH!?*

The man looked back and forth between Whitney and Frederick, his face lighting up with sudden clarity.

"Ah, I see what's going on."

He looked to Whitney and pointed. "You must be the prince's new escort. Hired to protect Prince Blaine while he's outside the palace. And this whole disguise business is just an extra precaution. I must say that's very clever."

*Prince….BLAINE!?*

The next thing he knew they were being gently ushered out of the alley by the man, who was now smiling from ear to ear. "Let's get out of this unsavory place, can't have people thinking we're shady criminals. Once again, I deeply apologize for my rash and unruly behavior, your highness."

*What the hell is happening? Why is this man calling me Blai-*

Frederick's train of thought came to a screeching halt when he saw his reflection in the shop window across the street. He rushed over to the window and let out a yelp of shock when it was clear there was no mistake.

Blaine's face stared right back at him with his auburn hair, rose petal eyes, and almond shape face. Frederick ran his fingers across his skin, pinching and tugging at every inch of his face to see if it was real.

It was.

Other than the dark circles under his eyes, Frederick's face was molded into the spitting image of his elder brother. "Ohhhhh my God. Is this really me?" he said to himself, eyes fixated on the window. In its glassy surface, he saw the rich man and Whitney approaching him from behind. He turned around. Whitney's grey eyes stared at him with a mixture of confusion, shock, and disbelief, his mouth opening and closing like a fish; Obviously at a loss for words. The man, however, gave a sympathetic smile. "Oh you poor boy. You look absolutely exhausted. To have your brother taken from you in such a violent manner and then be surrounded by all that grief at the funeral. My goodness, that must have been stifling! You just wanted to take a breather and get away from it all for just a few moments. Don't you worry about a thing, my lord. I will exercise the utmost discretion in concern with your visit. Please allow me to make up for my behavior by offering my services. Anything you wish, anything you require it will be done."

It took a few seconds for Frederick to process the situation and the man's offer. When he got his wits back, he flashed his best Blaine smile and replied, "Well, now that you mention it….."

The sun was halfway across the sky when the duo left town and walked back to camp with their supplies. Frederick, with Blaine's face, was grinning from ear to ear as he followed Whitney back to camp wearing his new sturdy hiking boots and carrying the vegetables and medical supplies in his arms. It was an understatement to say that he felt awesome. While that whole situation had been scary and nerve racking, it left him with something… new. His heart was racing, not with nerves, but with exhilaration. Every part of him was charged up by an energy that bounced around inside of him

and tickled his bones, making him smile even more. When they crossed the line into the enchanted forest, Frederick's excitement was pushed over the edge when he felt the familiar bubbling, fizzy euphoria. He let out a joyful scream and skipped high into the air, scaring the daylights out of Whitney, who jumped back, almost dropping the large tarp he was carrying and the tools. Frederick continued to run and skip around the forest while laughing like a kid on Christmas morning; The feeling of exuberant glee made him feel like he could sprout wings and fly. Whitney put his fingers to his lips and tried to take the bags away from the bounding cryptid.

"Shhhhh! Frederick, keep your voice down! Something might hear you." he said in a whisper. Frederick stopped jumping and beamed at Whitney with his brother's soft red eyes. "That was amazing! Did you see what happened? That dude really thought I was Blaine! For a second, when he said I looked familiar, I almost pissed myself. But then I…. Ha Ha Ha Ha! Whitney do you know what this means? I can be whoever I want! I don't have to hide! Hell, if we ever need anything again, I could just look like this and get anything we need." He said as he started to bounce on his toes. Whitney stood there with a half concern and half perturbed look in his eyes, at a complete loss at what to do. His brows furrowed with bewilderment as he observed the normally morose and reserved teen transformed into a completely different person.

Literally.

"Hold on… Don't get ahead of yourself. You just found out you could do this and have absolutely no clue how to control it. Besides, aren't people going to get suspicious if you keep showing up as the prince while people have seen him elsewhere?"

Frederick's smile froze on his face as his eyes dulled with shocked realization.

"Oh… Yeah."

Whitney sighed as he walked through the brush that led to their camp and put down the supplies on the ground. "You do have a point though. Being able to change your face will come in handy when we have to go back. We just need to figure out how it hap…. pens..." Suddenly, his back arched up like he was struck by lightning. Whitney slowly turned to Frederick; The teen grew nervous when he saw Whitney's colorless orbs observing him sternly with a hint of fear in their depths.

"Do you know how to turn back?" he asked.

Frederick felt a cold pit grow in his stomach. "UHhhhhhhh… I don't… know…. wait ….. Maybe." He shut his eyes tight as he thought back to all the times he saw his face. He thought about his blond physics defying hair that frustrated him to no end, his average sized soft body that was mocked relentlessly by his father, his green eyes... He heard a startled gasp followed by a choke and opened his eyes. Whitney was on the ground, apparently in the middle of backing away. His eyes were wide and his mouth agape.

"What's wrong? Did it work?" Frederick asked, worried that he messed up. Whitney stumbled to his feet, face red and flustered "No… Nothing is wrong. I just... Your face started shifting and… some parts deflated…. It just really surprised me."

Frederick turned his gaze to the ground. *You mean scared you.*

Whitney dusted himself off, regaining his composure, and went over to the bags. He crouched down and began to pull out ropes, pulleys, hammers, and nails. When he pulls out one of Frederick's books, he furrows his brows as he reads the silver title. "Pen Warriors?" Frederick hurries over to him when he hears him. "Uh… I can explain. That's just-" Whitney looks back in the bag and pulls out

two more books, "Simple Machines and More, Myths and Monsters: Encyclopedia of Cryptids From Around the World… I remember you picking out these but I didn't see you picking up the third." Frederick took the book from Whitney's hand and held it protectively. "I just got it to read for fun, ok…" He said as he stared at the ground, dreading his response. *He's probably going to laugh at me. Or scold me for buying something frivolous and useless.*

Whitney stood up, carrying ropes and pulleys in his hands. "Oh, that's good. Reading is very relaxing and it'll be healthy for you to destress during down time." He went over and started scanning the trees as Frederick stared at him with confusion and surprise.

*He's not making fun of me?*

Whitney turned to Frederick and motioned him over. Frederick walked to his side and saw that he had the machine book open to the pulleys and ropes chapter while looking up at the trees and examining them with a critical eye. "Do you think we can find a strong tree near here? It would be best to have you still near the camp, but if there's a tree with strong branches that's further away, it might be best to make the tree house there as long as I can see you."

"We're making a tree-house? That actually sounds cool."

"It is. So which tree has the strongest branches?"

"Well, we have to see which tree is alive and what kind of structure we want to….."

The boys decided on a simple model; A single large plank of wood that serves as the floor which would be sheltered by the canvas of the tent. The second square of canvas would be used as an additional wall to keep out the elements. The ropes, pulleys, and a spare plank of wood would be used as a mini elevator to deliver supplies or food up to it. The two started to build the wood floor, Whitney held the nails as Frederick hammered them. Whitney turned his head to him, curiously looking at him. "What... is that book about?"

"You've never heard about Pen Warriors?"

"My father didn't believe that one should waste their time on frivolous endeavors. So he forbade us from reading fictional stories."

Frederick sneered in disgust. "Uch, What a jerk! I hate it when people judge books like that. Pen Warriors is a great series. While it might be fiction, the character interactions are very true to life and give you a whole new outlook on friendships and romances. Also the story telling is amazing! I like how they avoid the usual bland and boring stereotypes of the MC and his love interest; Seriously why do they write the girl as the most useless character and the guy as this confident and over powered dude? This story completely tosses all those tropes in the garbage fire they deserve! It's about this guy that's not really all that popular in school, so all he does is read in the library. Then he discovers that he can summon characters out of books. But then….."

The two continue to build the modest upper level shelter while Frederick continues to gab about his favorite serial from start to finish. Throughout it all, Whitney noticed that Frederick was actually really good with transposing the designs from the book into reality and even made some improvements. All the while he was relaxed, talkative, and joyfully smiling from ear to ear. It warmed his own heart to see the usually nervous teen so happy. When they were done they looked back up at their handiwork, they saw that the sun was just beginning to set. "We're going to need to hunt for some meat tonight. You wanna come? You probably want to rest since today was pretty hectic and you might still be sore from yesterday."

Frederick turned to him and smiled; The black coal dye job was slowly being washed away by sweat and it streaked down his face in long black stripes. "Thanks! But I'll at least cook some of those vegetables for tonight while you're gone. I think the cucumbers will pair well with the blood and I really want to try it." Whitney smiled warmly at him and had to fight the urge to ruffle Frederick's hair. "I've never seen you smile like that before."

Frederick felt his mouth go wider as the perfect response came to mind.

"Neither have I. I thought that you lost it somewhere."

Whitney chuckled quietly "Nice to know I still can."

*I think... We're friends now. Is this how it feels to have a friend? Because it feels amazing…* Frederick scratched at his skin, feeling sticky, sweaty, and uncomfortable. Without a word, he peeled off his skin and started walking to the river. "Ech. I need a wash." he said as Whitney, neutral expression back in all its glory, started walking to the treeline. "I'll see you in about an hour." he said.

"Ok, later." Frederick replied as he reached the river and slowly submerged his warm body into the cool water.

Whitney sat in the cool green grass gazing up at the waxing moon. His sensitive ears perked up at every cricket chirp and leaf crackle. While most would be in awe at the beauty of the slowly filling moon, he couldn't help but clench the grass between his fingers as his heart squeezed with nervousness. He looked up at Frederick's tree house, hearing the teen snore away between the branches. Frederick's good mood continued all throughout dinner, talking or asking questions about the kind of creatures he had seen while here. He even felt comfortable enough to keep his skin off for the rest of the night. Whitney felt his heart ache when he thought about how Frederick was starting to warm up to him; Someone who could become his worst nightmare in a flash.

(He can't come down there when it's time. But what if it's not enough? I could still hurt him. No…. I can't let that happen….. I have to take every precaution….. No mistakes.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another chapter down, Yay me! Whoooo! this one was tough to write. For some strange reason I kept over complicating certain interactions between Frederick and Whitney. While reading it, I couldn't help but feel like I made Frederick way too sarcastic, to the point of being mean. So I had a friend from outside the fandom read the chapter and she said that Whitney and Frederick reminded her of the type of friends that are really comfortable with being themselves around each other, while still having funny quarrels. Which gave me all the security I need to continue with my progression. I'm also glad that I got to write a moment with Gwen and how she is dealing with everything. Because I really wanted to include her after giving her an appearance at the ball. I hope I was able to properly capture her character in that segment. Gwen just seemed to strike me as someone that would notice things like fake emotions and be suspicious about the King. I'm also going to write a segment focusing on Lance, because I know you all want to know what's going through his head right now. Which brings me to some exciting news….
> 
> Next chapter, We see our first other cryptid! Hooray!
> 
> I am so pumped for this, I’ve been waiting to write out the chapter with our first look at a monster, besides Whitney and Frederick. I’m keeping it a secret but it’s gonna be good.
> 
> (Spoiler warning)
> 
> Also for anyone who might ask. I planned the majority of this fic before the new chapters revealed that Whitney could not turn into a weretiger, so in my fic he can and like prez he can’t control himself when he is in that form.
> 
> I’ll be taking a short break since it's the holidays. And I already got the best present.
> 
> Over 100 hits of Cpc: The Secret of the Plaid Family!
> 
> Thank you all so much for reading and going on this weird little horror ride with me. Also, thank you to AichiMarshmellowPeaches98 for helping me get out of my head and get a new perspective.
> 
> Happy Holidays everyone!


	12. Progress Update

Hello readers! Now I have some good news and bad news. The good news is that I finished the first draft of chapter 11 and its in the process of revision.

The bad news is..... I have a manuscript due in a month and it will most likely keep me from posting for a while. That and my other classes of course. Now, I will try to work on it when I can but it looks like I might be on haitus for a bit possibly until March. Thank you all for your patience and see you soon!


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